Biology Assignments
by Vanamo
Summary: AU. Cameron and Thirteen are partners on a biology assignment. The research in the library doesn't go quite as expected. Smut!
1. Chapter 1

So, this was written at the request of greeenraiin. I have no idea how it came up lol. Warning! The most detailed smut I will ever give lies ahead. Enjoy.

* * *

Allison Cameron sighed heavily and readjusted her glasses, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. She was stuck in the library again looking up information for her latest biology assignment. Her lab partner, Remy Hadley, was nowhere to be found. This didn't surprise Cameron at all. Remy Hadley was the campus flirt. She was gorgeous and charming, but kept her personal life under the wraps at all times. She never took any man or woman, though she preferred women from what Cameron heard, back to her dorm room more than once. She'd heard all kinds of nicknames, but 'Thirteen' was the most popular. Apparently she broke the one to ten scale. Cameron couldn't stand the idea of notches on a bedpost.

Still, something kept her from completely judging her. Cameron couldn't help but think that there must be demons in the woman's past for her to be so promiscuous on purpose. Of course if Remy never showed up to help her on this genetics paper she wouldn't have the chance to ask. She questioned how Remy planned on passing through all of their classes to get into medical school. She could understand if Remy wasn't serious about a job after college, but it pissed Cameron off to no end how she studied for hours and Remy somehow always got just as high of a grade. But god damn, every time she walked up to the front desk to hand in that assignment she looked sexy as hell.

Cameron shut the book she was flipping through. She did _not_ like Remy Hadley. She was straight and Remy Hadley was a player. She wasn't even worth the thought. The only reason she was even considered – no, she didn't consider, it was idiotic and completely unreasonable – was because Remy sat across from her in Biology.

She hated the class. The way Remy tapped her pen in between her slender fingers always annoyed her. She ignored lab safety and let her hair fall down and made her neck a focal point, teasing her. She caught Remy looking at her and smirking before she went back to work. Cameron rolled her eyes constantly and tried to focus on their professor droning on, but if Remy wasn't distracting her the guy next to her was with his whispered questions. Cameron swore he didn't know a lipid from a lysosome. And then when he finally shut up, Remy would find some other method of torturing her. By then all Cameron could do was concentrate on the clock for the two hours to go by faster. Cameron sighed and took down another book on sex-linked traits. There was no way she would pass this class.

"Having fun?"

Cameron's heads snapped up. Remy was standing in between the bookcases at the end of the aisle, smirking at her. Cameron's eyes quickly narrowed. "Loads," she said spitefully.

"How's our project coming?" Remy asked, walking over.

Cameron looked back down at the book and flipped a few pages, despite not even reading the articles. "I have half a mind not to even put your name on it."

"Aww, don't be like that, Allison," Remy said playfully, "I'm doing the citations aren't I? You hate citations."

"I've already written them down since you haven't been here to keep track of the books," Cameron snarled, flipping more pages.

Remy closed the distance between them and looked over her shoulder. Cameron clenched her jaw to keep from shivering, or worse moaning, as Remy's breath tickled her ear and the curves of her body melted into her back. All of a sudden she felt hands over hers and palms pushing on them, forcing her to close the book with a soft thump. "The Principles of Mandel, a Collective Research of Heredity and blah, blah, blah…" Remy read softly, "How boring."

Cameron took a deep, shuddering breath. "If you're not going to help, leave," she somehow managed.

Remy grinned enticingly. "I think you need a distraction." Her voice wasn't thick with lust, as Cameron had expected. It was light, almost like they were dating. Or Remy was just being a tease and wanting to see her reaction.

Cameron placed the book back on the shelf and turned around to face the taller brunette. "Really, that's the best you've got?" she asked, annoyed by both the advances and her body's reaction to them.

She jumped as she felt hands on her waist. "Well if you stopped talking, we could go much faster," Remy said.

She rolled her eyes and tried to push Remy's hands off. All they did was slide slickly down to her legs. Remy caught her fingers in the pockets of Cameron's jeans and applied a bit of pressure playfully. Cameron turned around, forcing Remy's hands away. "You've obviously already had a few beers tonight before remembering that this assignment is due tomorrow, so leave and bullshit the presentation in class with me at eleven." Cameron quickly snapped.

Remy's shining blue eyes met hers. In the complete momentary silence, Cameron could head the beat of the music from headphones protruding from the neck of Remy's thin sweatshirt. "Yeah, you really need to stop talking," Remy whispered.

Cameron looked away. "Leave me alone. There are plenty of other chicks you can work your charm on," she said, trying to have some sense of finality in her voice.

"If you wanted me to leave you alone, you would have worked with Brian on the assignment," Remy pointed out, leaning against the shelf.

"No, I didn't want to fail," Cameron said. She kept up her annoyed facade but knew that if she didn't leave soon she'd be very frustrated, both ways. "It was the lesser of two evils."

"Right, "Remy smirked, "You don't like me at all."

"I don't," Cameron affirmed. It was barely noticeable, but Remy's eyes changed. Cameron couldn't place the emotion, but it looked almost sad.

Before she realized what was happening, she felt a pair of lips pressing against hers and two hands wrapped around her wrists. Remy aggressively plunged her tongue into her mouth and Cameron let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to grip the bookcase to have some force behind her to push Remy back with, but the shelves were metal and the large books went all the way to the edge. She felt the blood pumping through her ears as the kisses continued. The longer they lasted, the more she liked it.

Remy paused for breath, making circles on Cameron's wrist. Cameron took the opportunity and tried to push her away, but Remy held strong. "What the hell are you doing?" Cameron breathed, her arousal overwhelming her anger.

"Giving you what you want," Remy said in a low, sensual voice. She kissed back and this time Cameron made no effort to pull away. Her back arched as her hips came forward, pushing into Remy's, and she pushed the books on the shelf to make room for her head to lean back in pleasure as Remy's tongue continued dancing with hers. Remy trailed one hand up Cameron's arm, teasing the thin blouse she was wearing, and ran it along her shoulder and neck up to her jaw line. Slowly she slipped off Cameron's reading glasses. "You won't need these," Remy whispered before capturing Cameron's lips again.

Cameron gasped as Remy's hand made its way to the top button of her blouse and started to undo it. She broke the kiss, "Here?"

"Why not?" Remy asked in a muffled voice, holding part of the collar with her teeth. The stubborn button finally relinquished, revealing the top of Cameron's breasts.

"We're in a library," Cameron groaned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the end of the bookcases. True, they were in a fairy secluded part of the large campus library, and it was Friday night, when people were usually partying, but sex in a library?

"So?" Remy questioned softly. "Haven't you always wanted to have sex in a library?"

"S-s-ooh," Cameron moaned as Remy's tongue ran over her collarbone and across the top of her sensitive breast. "If we get caught, we'll, we'll-"

"Really, you need to shut up," Remy murmured.

Cameron felt her knees going weak. "Not," she gasped as a second button came undone, this one on her jeans, "Not against a bookcase."

A smirk flashed across Remy's face as she looked up from the top of the valley between Cameron's breasts, blocked only by the lace bra. "Ok then," she said devilishly. She continued unbuttoning the shirt until Cameron's quivering knees really were about to go out. Remy spied a stool out of the corner of her eye and used her foot to inch it over. She met Cameron's lips again, harshly and wild, which only intensified her own lust. From the look on Cameron's face, it was for her too.

They moved a bit further along the bookshelf so when Cameron's knees buckled she would land on the stool. The older student slid down the shelves, not caring about the awkward bumps to her spine, until she sat on the old wooden foot stool. Remy came down with her and continued downward in one fluid motion. She didn't cherish her body as she worked her way south, and Cameron didn't want her to. This was Remy Hadley, one night stand extraordinaire. If she was going down on her, she didn't want it soft and loving. She needed a distraction, she needed to be fucked senseless. Remy would just help her achieve that.

The younger woman swiftly undid the zipper of Cameron's jeans as her legs spread wider. "Really, I didn't think you'd be this easy," Remy mumbled with particular enjoyment.

Cameron released her hold on the bookshelf and instead tangled her fingers in Remy's brown tresses. It pulled Remy's head back and their eyes met again. Remy's windpipe was visible and she was breathing heavily. This excited her. "You can use that as a damn citation," Cameron shot back.

"I will," Remy grinned. She yanked Cameron's panties down and nuzzled the darker curls. So she wasn't a natural blonde.

Her tongue flicked her clit and Cameron let out a pitiful groan in frustration. Remy loved how even when they played hard to get, they were already so wet for her. Her tongue teased her a bit more and Cameron's grip on her hair tightened. She obeyed and licked the length of her folds, having a taste of the juices. "Oh god," Cameron cried softly.

Remy let her hands travel the length of Cameron's jean covered legs. She contemplated trying to get them off, but it was too much work for something that would soon be done with. "Come on," Cameron gasped through erratic breaths as Remy continued to tease her.

Remy happily obliged. Cameron's head pushed back on the books and a few heavier ones fell on the other side. Hopefully nobody would come rushing to the rescue of Rosalind Franklin's Collective Research on DNA. "Remy," she barely managed. Remy heard her and brought her over the edge. The waves rushing through her sent books on the other side falling down one by one.

When Remy thought Cameron had had enough time to come back to her senses, she looked up quizzically. What happened next caught her completely off guard as Cameron pushed her back full force onto the carpeted floor. She pinned one shoulder with her elbow and silenced her surprised yelp with a deep kiss. Her pants were still unbuttoned with her panties partially ridden back up, rubbing against Remy's upper thigh.

When their lips parted, Remy's eyes widened at the expression on Cameron's face. Her completely-perfect-in-every-way lab partner had just had sex with her, Remy Hadley, who was completely-female-in-every-way. And from the look in her lidded eyes and the mess of hair in her face, she wanted more.

Remy flipped Cameron onto her back and kissed her again, licking and savoring the older woman's bottom lip. She used one knee to stabilize herself enough to used both arms and finally yank Cameron's blouse off, leaving only her bra.

"Rem," Cameron moaned.

"Hm?" Remy asked, muffled by Cameron's neck which she was sucking on. Cameron's cool fingers pushed up under sweatshirt and carved erratic patterns into her back, her knuckles surely white. Cameron's hips pressed up against her legs and Remy felt a shudder go through her body from the sudden heat. Remy trailed kisses up her neck and her hair cascaded down around their shoulders and necks.

"Please," Cameron gasped, barely holding back her cries. Her stubborn attitude had long vanished and getting caught was the least of the worries by now. Even the rug burn her arms were undoubtedly suffering was more than worth it.

Remy smirked and unhooked Cameron's bra, watching as goose bumps formed wherever she breathed over Cameron's beautiful skin. Her fingers left trails of moisture and she watched as Cameron tremble from the touch.

Some of the books on the shelf above them had also fallen when Cameron practically tackled her. Cameron's head had landed on one of the obscenely ancient, no doubt expensive, leather-bound books. Remy reached under her, grabbed it and tossed it in a random direction. It let Cameron's neck arch in agonizing pleasure as her tongue flicked around one nipple. A few more books fell, and Remy couldn't help but smirk at what a mess they were making before they even got to the best part. Remy's hands glided down her sides and if it hadn't been such torture, Cameron might have let out a breathy laugh. She clenched her eyes shut and opened them again wide to try and keep the old ceiling lights from spinning.

"Almost," Remy answered breathlessly. She nuzzled the rosy flesh and breathed in Cameron's scent. It was light and vanilla, delicious. Her ear happened to rest near Cameron's heart and she took smug satisfaction at the fast paced beats. She suddenly wanted to feel every inch blonde beneath her. Shaking her head to toss the bundle of hair out of her face, she felt Cameron's tight grip on her back and reminded herself exactly why she was here. Of course, the still playing headphones were getting in the way. It wouldn't hurt to ditch one layer.

"Allison," she whispered, having her exploring hands stop and slide off onto the carpet. Half open, lustrous eyes met hers, but no words were necessary to seem to convey to Cameron what she wanted her to do. Within seconds the sweatshirt and ipod in the pocket were soon somewhere on the floor a few feet away, leaving Remy in a white cotton tank top. Cameron began to tug on that too, but Remy guided her hands away. It was just getting hot; she didn't get naked for just a good fuck. But now Cameron's fingernails dug into the skin of her shoulder blades, that pressure was enough.

Again, her hands started the journey southward. Her fingers splayed across Cameron's thighs. She nipped on Cameron's neck a bit and the woman groaned. Figuring she couldn't put it off any longer, her fingers slipped into the heat awaiting her. Cameron let out what only could be described as a whimper. Remy Hadley had successfully turned her into a pile of mush. She felt her fingers curl inside her and slowly start to pump in and out.

"Remy," by this point Cameron was begging. The fact that they were in a library or that it was nearly ten and they were nowhere near done with their project didn't occur to her at all. All her senses could take outside the feeling of Remy inside her was their labored breath and the hum of the radiator by the window overlooking campus. For the second time that night she reached a mind-shattering climax while Remy kissed away her shrieks. The musty smell around them intermixed with the books, letting Cameron lose herself in the body holding her so closely.

Remy kissed her deeply again and Cameron flipped her over, "Thirteen."

Remy froze. Cameron's eyes widened. She felt her nearly back to normal heart (compared to the full blown tachycardia a minute ago) speed up. Why had she said that?

Remy's eyes turned ice cold. "Get off me," she said in a dangerously calm, unreadable tone. When Cameron didn't move, Remy grabbed her wrists and forced Cameron's hands off her body. She sat up, effectively pushing Cameron back. Cameron lost her balance, crouched on the balls of her feet, and hit the bookshelf with a hard thump to her back. The previous bumps that had chosen to bruise demanded her attention painfully.

Remy grabbed her sweatshirt and pulled it over head haphazardly. She stood up with the aid of the leg of the fallen stool Cameron had sat on moments before. She stuck the ipod, still blaring muffled notes, back in her pocket and made some quick attempt to fix her hair. Cameron looked up at her, too stunned to really know what to feel. Remy swallowed and stuck her hands in her pocket to turn off the ipod. "I'll take care of the presentation," she said coolly. Her face was cast in shadows from the light above them. "I'll see you tomorrow, Allison."

She turned her face to the side and walked slightly faster than necessary to the end of the aisle before disappearing around the corner. Cameron came to her senses and held her blouse up to her chest, clutching the material tightly. Remy Hadley had come to her solely to add another notch to her bedpost, but when Cameron had acknowledged that, Remy just left. That was the reason she came. Right?

Cameron looked around at the fallen books before buttoning up her jeans and slipping on her blouse. She stood up with a heavy weight on her chest. The shelves around her never felt so silent. And her heart never felt so empty.

* * *

I just realized that this is my second story centered on a library. Yes, I love libraries. This is so my fantasy with the girl who sits across from me in biology *blushes*. Anyway. This was intended to be a one shot, but I'm not so sure anymore. So I'm letting you guys decide! :) BTW, since everyone seems to be mentioning it, I have a twitter. I keep forgetting. If you want to watch the current WW3 breaking out, it's Vanamo13.

On a sadder note, I was really devastated by the earthquake in Haiti. I donated $200 and I know a lot of people are asking what they can do if they don't have money. Please do whatever you can! Bake sales really work, do what you're good at and be creative. Hell, you could have a write-in or a read-in! One way you can help RIGHT NOW is to go to freerice. freerice. com is a great site fighting to end world hunger. You play vocabulary games (or other subjects) and for every answer you get right they donate 10 grains of rice. You can also download a search bar that gives up to 5000 grains every day just by you searching the internet! Please spread the word and get involved any way you can, since it can go a long way. End motivational speech.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: This chapter contains what can only be described as blasphemy. Amazon Life has already been nice enough to make Wanted posters with my face on them. Please don't kill me, because I like my head.

2: For any non-Americans, silver dollar pancakes are basically little bite-sized pancakes.

* * *

"You smell like sex."

Remy groaned as she walked into the dorm room. Her roommate, who had a knack for being a real bitch, always knew when she had had sex. She glared at the woman, who was lounging comfortably on Remy's bed surrounded by text books. She set down her own set, which she had gathered off the table Cameron had been working on that she needed to finish the assignment, along with a USB containing Cameron's notes. Hopefully she wouldn't be too pissed.

"I never have to voice when you get laid," Remy said, shutting the door. The girl handed her a beer from the bedside table and Remy sat down next to her on the sagging mattress against the wall and took a swig.

"Oh, you got laid? Not just sex?" she asked smugly.

Remy glared at her; she hated people nitpicking her word choice. "Shut up, I have Bio to do," Remy muttered tiredly. She stretched out across the bed to retrieve the laptop and started it up. The project still needed another hour or two of work to get Cameron a gold star.

"Oh god, it was Cameron wasn't it."

Remy's neck snapped up. She quickly drew a hand to it incase she actually got whiplash, which would be even worse than the alternative of spilling beer on the computer. "Why would you think that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Your face right now, for one thing," her roommate said victoriously, "and you had your project with her tonight. You're such an idiot, Remy. If you two had sex then you should be over this little cat and mouse game with her."

Remy didn't answer. She played with the bottle in her hands and sighed.

Her roommate sat up and put down her book, saving it from further assault by pen and highlighter. "You actually like her?"

Remy took the computer off her lap and shut it. "I don't know," she said honestly.

Her roommate thought for a moment. "So you two had sex…what happened afterwards?"

Remy leaned back against the poster-covered wall and brought her knees up to her chest. "She called me Thirteen," she muttered.

The older woman couldn't hide her jaw dropping open a tiny bit before regaining her haughty tone. "Figures, I knew it. She totally objectified you, especially using that stupid nickname. Even if you came on to her, that was just conceited and bitchy. I told you, she was just a bi-curious girl wanting to have a good fuck."

Remy opened her mouth to object, but Cameron's voice flashed through her mind. It really had hurt. She closed her mouth and gazed at the books without reading the titles. Fingertips ran up her arm and sent a small shiver through her. Thinking of Cameron's touch against her back made her heart quicken. She felt a pair of lips press against hers and after a moment she allowed the tongue access. Books were quickly pushed out of the way and Remy felt her muscles relax. Now fully lying down on the bed, Amber kissed her again and gave her the release she desperately needed.

* * *

Amber was the first one to wake up at five past seven. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and quickly disentangled her limbs with those of the naked sleeping brunette beside her. Remy buried herself further under the blankets. Amber liked waking up early, before the mad rush made by everyone in the dorm in the morning to get ready for class. It gave her time to think. Upon becoming roommates at the beginning of the year, it had quickly been evident that Remy had some issues. For one, she was gorgeous and 100% single, which matched as much as lipase and sucrose. For another, she was so quiet and brooding that it annoyed Amber to no end, to the point where she actually bothered her constantly just to get a response.

After weeks of that, she gave up and got Remy drunk. It seemed to be a weakness since it resulted in a long, slurred, fucked up and confusing confession. Remy then came on to her, and since Amber was always one for casual sex they'd had their current relationship status ever since. Of course things had been complicated when she started dating this sweet guy named James in her Oncology class. Remy kept trying to warn in case Amber got wasted one night and went on a mad killing spree from built up anger at professors. To which Amber would give Remy's cell number out to nerds or put a tripwire in the doorway. But as long as he didn't walk in on them, there was no reason to stop. Remy was also friends with James's buddy Greg House, who was as big of a jackass as there ever was with icy blue eyes and an amazing mind. He was also a casual drug user – pot usually, but whatever he could get his hands on was fine with him. According to James, some hot broad in their Endocrinology class was infatuated with him.

There was also this oddball Kutner in their Physiology class. He was your typical Star Wars and World of Warcraft fanatic with a posse of other Asian nerds. He also was a total klutz who couldn't drink half of a Bud Light without feeling queasy in the beginning of the year. The poor guy had a lot to learn, but for some reason Remy enjoyed his company. Amber figured he jumped at the chance to be seen with an actual girl. He'd loosened up a bit since spring break, so maybe House (as he preferred) shared some of his Mary Jane. He even went on a panty raid of a sorority house with an older student in his surgery rotation, Chris Taub.

As for this woman Allison Cameron, Amber didn't know much about her. Remy mentioned once that this guy Chase kept bothering her, but her roommate looked about ready to punch the next person who talked. After thinking about it awhile, Amber recalled something about Cameron tutoring some dumb jock kid, Eric or Edward, or maybe Ernie. Amber didn't care. Beyond that she was clueless.

Remy, still asleep beside her, turned over from her back onto her side, facing Amber. She groped behind her and grabbed a throw pillow to clutch onto. Her expression showed evident exhaustion, which Amber felt a twinge of guilt for. She probably should have let Remy finish up the Biology project instead of having forget-Cameron sex until well into the early hours. Then again, Amber couldn't help being so persuading. Remy was a year or two younger than her classmates because she graduated early, so Amber often joked about how she still needed naps.

Smirking at the memory, Amber finally threw the covers off herself and stood up and stretched her long limbs. Remy unconsciously pulled the blanket and sheets tighter around herself and buried her face in the pillow. Amber smirked; maybe her roomie was five after all. She put on a hopefully clean white tank top and shorts from one of the piles on the floor before taking another glance back at Remy. The brunette was now lying on her stomach and hugging the pillow to her chest. Deciding she was hungry, Amber quickly raided their small pantry for the necessary ingredients and plugged in the hot plate on the windowsill. She grabbed some Sunny D from the fridge and started cooking. Ah, the exciting life of a med student.

When the silver dollar pancakes were about halfway through, Remy began to stir from the smell drifting through the room. She muttered incoherently as Amber flipped the pancakes onto a plate with expert skill. She found a plastic fork and skewered a few onto it before popping them in her mouth. They were a little burnt on the bottom, but it just gave them flavor in her opinion. Remy groaned again and Amber walked the short distance to the bed, resting one knee on the mattress.

"Wake up, sex kitten," Amber cooed, poking her shoulder lightly with the fork. Remy's soft expression creased into a frown.

"Stop it," she groaned quietly. She turned her head back to facing the wall.

"No, wake up," Amber persisted. She kept poking with the fork until Remy turned over and glared at her with half open eyes.

"What time is it?" Remy asked, although it sounded more like 'Wha timezit'.

"7:30," Amber informed her. Remy closed her eyes and sighed. Now that Remy was somewhat up, Amber decided to check their abysmally small pantry for syrup. Spotting a half full bottle, she happily drizzled some of Aunt Jemima's finest on the tiny stack of pancakes.

Apparently smelling the syrup, Remy finally pushed herself up off the bed. Amber watched with amusement, licking the syrup off the fork. Remy, in her semi-conscious state, had forgotten that she was nude. When she looked up and saw Amber's grin she turned bright pink and grabbed a sheet to hide what her roommate was eyeing, sighing exasperatedly.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before!" Amber called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom. "It looked great last night," she muttered before eating another mini pancake. She heard the sink turn on in the bathroom. "Hey, do you have your project done?"

She sink stopped and she heard a clatter as the toothbrush hit the counter. Remy opened the door clad in only a baby blue lace bra and matching panties. "Shit!" she exclaimed, "What time is it?" she asked for the second time, trying to pull on a shirt while starting up the laptop and flipping open random books.

"7:31," Amber said, biting into the pancake with a smug grin.

"Shit," Remy repeated to herself. Quickly scanning the books, she asked, "Where's my green notebook?"

"No clue," Amber replied, sitting down in their shared office chair.

"You had it last week when you were studying for that test in Maroni's, right?" Remy asked, her voice still a bit raw from sleep. She looked over at Amber's bed. "Where are your sheets?" She could have sworn that there were the usual wrinkled blue sheets there yesterday.

Amber set down the plate of pancakes and shrugged. Remy studied her for a minute before a disgusted look crossed her face. "You had sex with James in here?"

Amber rolled her eyes. "Big deal, you had sex in the library."

"That's why you wanted me out of here. Gross," Remy said, shaking her head.

"You have sex with guys too," Amber pointed out, spinning lazily in the chair.

"In their beds," Remy clarified. "You've marked your territory all over mine." She continued to squint tiredly at the screen before her stomach growled very audibly. She ran a hand through her hair and looked up. "Can I have some of those pancakes?" she asked tiredly.

"No way, make your own," Amber said. She took another bite for emphasis.

"Come on, I need my strength for this idiotic presentation," Remy coaxed her. Amber seemed to think it over and Remy rolled her eyes before sticking her hand out, clearly begging.

"Oh fine," Amber said, sighing melodramatically. She was about to hand over the half eaten plate of pancakes when an idea struck her. She pulled the plate out of Remy's reach at the last second.

"Hey!" Remy yelled, "Come on, give it!"

"On one condition," Amber drawled out mischievously. "And I'll even help you with your presentation."

Remy raised a curious eyebrow. "What?"

"After the presentation, you have to ask Cameron out," Amber said confidently.

Remy's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" she asked after a minute.

Amber nodded. "Not that I don't enjoy sex with you, but this way James and I can do what we want and you and Cameron can go be wildcats in the locker room."

"But last night you called her a bitch," Remy reminded her, confused.

"You obviously don't agree," Amber pointed out, "It doesn't matter what I think if you actually like her."

Remy thought about it for a minute before sighing. "Yeah, I like her. And in a way I used her too, so we're both bitches."

"If you two have spark, go for it," Amber said. She finally handed Remy the plate. "Of course if she does turn out to be a bitch, I'll break her legs."

"What are you, my pimp?" Remy asked before taking a bite of the pancakes. "My god, these are awesome!" she said, taking another large bite.

"Yeah yeah, you can testify to my culinary brilliance later. You don't stand a chance with her unless you get that bio project done." Amber said. She stood up from the spinning chair and dropped down onto the bed beside Remy, crossing her legs. Remy took notice of this and grinned lustrously and Amber punched her arm, "Focus."

Remy stuck out her tongue, but Amber's glare held firm. "Right," Remy answered determinedly, taking another bite of the pancakes.

"The Transcription of Genetics and Their Effects," Amber read the title. "Vague and incredibly boring. Is the slide show any better?"

Remy pressed the arrow and skimmed through the pages. "Not even an interesting or gross picture," she sighed.

Amber stole the fork and ate one more pancake. "Looks like you'll need to throw in a few jokes."

* * *

Ok, please don't kill me! As you can see, they both have their respected others, it's just casual lesbian fun until Cameron comes to her senses XD Majority won (omg, 25 reviews to zip) lol, but even so this update is overdue. I blame...my own lazy self. Also, shoutout and applause for Roronoa Robin, because I hadn't really considered adding the House cast until you mentioned it. It all came together though (thank you iyimgrace) and I think it's much more interesting now. As usual I'm sure there's more I can say...oh, and as always, kudos to WonderousPlaceForAnEcho for editing and putting up with my lack of detail. And keep playing freerice people!


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure it's good like this?" Remy asked as she checked her hair in the mirror for the third time.

"Yes, the project is fine, and your hair is not going to explode into a frizzy mess. Come on, we have to get going," Amber said, packing up the laptop.

"We?" she asked, buttoning up her formal blouse she wore for presentations. Professors were such sticklers about that crap.

"I've already been through the class, but I have nothing better to do. Plus I can break the ice for the Q&A portion." Amber buttoned up her coat. The November air was a preparation for the miserably cold Princeton weather in the future winter months.

"We have a Q&A bit?" Remy asked, shocked.

"God, even I remembered that from last year. Did you even read the rubric?" Amber questioned as they walked hurriedly down the dorm hall.

"Um," Remy thought back, "No. I was drunk the night before so I skipped." She avoided eye contact and kept her voice at its usual tone.

"When were you drunk?" Amber asked concernedly.

"When you and James were out last week," she muttered. She pushed the door open and bitter air nipped at her face in a large gust of wind, sweeping up all the leaves on the sidewalk. Amber caught it as Remy let it fall behind her, biting her lip. It was probably better not to talk about it at that particular moment.

They continued to walk silently at a brisk pace towards the building the particular Biology class was in. Remy sighed and tried to collect herself. She couldn't wait to get all of these pesky classes out of the way so she could get her BA and go to medical school, then actually do something with herself. For now, she was still stuck in all the required foundation class 'to become a more well-rounded individual' shit. Amber was a year older than her and she hated it too.

They reached the class ten minutes before it started. The people who bothered to show up were mostly slouched over on the lab tables with ipods and 4 inch thick binders full of sparknotes and copied homework or taking advantage of the time to work on their mountains of stats work.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief that they had made it, Remy began hooking up the computer to the screen in the front of the classroom for the presentation. Amber took a seat on one of the stools and looked around curiously.

"Come here often?" a snarky voice asked from behind her. Amber rolled her eyes and turned around to see a handsome jackass smirking at her who reeked of weed.

"What do you want House?" she asked, annoyed. Her heart fell as he took a seat next to her.

"Enjoying the festivities," he said as his eyes on Remy as she bent over the computer, pulling up the slideshow. "Where's Thirteen's new love bug?"

"You know she hates being called that," Amber grumbled, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, it's part of her whole mystery persona," House grinned. He imitated a suspenseful voice, "How many women has she slept with? How many couples has she broken up?"

"How many times I'll hit you if you keep talking," Amber said disdainfully.

"I bet its how many shots Wilson needs to make you tolerable," House told her. He swiveled in his stool and propped his legs up on the stool by the adjacent table, making her scoot hers back to continue the conversation. Just as Amber was about to respond, House said, "Or maybe it's how many minutes late the love bug plans to be."

Amber's eyes widened and she looked up at Remy, who looked as if she had been trying to catch her eye. Most people couldn't read her, but Amber caught the slight crease in her eyebrows and the way she was biting the insides of her cheeks. She took a glance at her watch and swallowed. Class started in two minutes and Cameron was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Cameron woke up sore and exhausted. She searched her memory of last night and turned over and sighed, partially hiding her face in the pillow. Last night…that explained why she was achy. What was she supposed to make of the events last night? First off, she could pretty much toss her morals out the window, joining the empty shattered beer bottles outside her dorm. It was safe to say that she couldn't stand by them anymore after allowing last night to happen. She couldn't put the events into words. Why had Remy acted the way she did? Why did Cameron let her? And why had Remy suddenly left?

First off, she shook her head tiredly at herself. She just sat there for a few minutes after Remy left. She had had the decency to get most of her clothes back on, but she had stared at old volumes of Erwin Chargaff's Discoveries on DNA structure for about ten minutes. She had been numb, but at the same time overwhelmed with feeling. It wasn't like she didn't have any experience, but she wondered if sex with any of her former boyfriends had been that good. And there was that one girl at the Homecoming her senior year, but they had been drunk and it was nowhere near what Remy had invigorated in her. She supposed she should be frank and define what had happened as a good fuck. But was it more than that?

A thought suddenly struck her. That slightly odd look in Remy's eyes after she said that she didn't like her – what had that been? Surely Remy didn't like her. Remy didn't like people, she had sex with them. Like that time at that one party, she had been talking up that girl and – well, Cameron hadn't seen them leave together, but they were drunk. Ok, that was a bad example. But Cameron had heard and seen enough to know that Remy was bad news.

If that was the case though, why did Remy like her? Not that that was established. Was she a sense of conquest, or was it just a random thing? Remy had no basis to like her. They had worked together on past labs since the year started and from the beginning there had been some odd tension. Cameron had never considered it sexual. In fact, Remy took great pleasure in torturing her most of the time. She didn't really have the maturity of a thirteen year old boy, did she? Cameron chuckled – maybe that was the source of the nickname?

Remy's nickname 'Thirteen' was an odd bit of gossip on campus. It was nowhere near the attention that House and Wilson got, the big Don himself and his consigliere (although his girlfriend had him by the balls), but it was a bit of a joke to call someone Thirteen if they were a real party animal. Cameron had transferred to this college last year, so she had missed out on the majority of the huge fiascos the current class put on as freshmen. Never so rowdy of a class had passed through this campus.

Cameron shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts back to Remy. From what she understood, House had given her the title and it stuck to the point where professors used 'Thirteen' and 'Hadley' interchangeably. Every time someone asked her of the real meaning, Remy apparently replied that it was her awards for community service, or how many books she'd read that year. Personally, Cameron thought the latter more suited Foreman, who had probably only read thirteen books in his whole life.

So if it was all a joke, why did it bother Remy so much? Cameron couldn't answer without talking to her, and the very idea gave her an awful feeling in her stomach. She wasn't in the mood for the dreaded morning after. In fact, maybe she should just ditch all her classes today and sleep some more.

She sighed and glanced at the clock. Her eyes widened. "Shit!" she exclaimed, throwing the covers off her body. It was five to eleven and the biology assignment wasn't done, she thought as she pulled on hopefully wrinkle-free slacks. She froze when she realized that the laptop wasn't on her desk. Thoughts raced – did she leave it at the library? Stolen? Did Remy have it? God, she hoped it was the last one. Pulling on a nicer pair of boots (that wouldn't help her run at all) she flew out the door of her dorm room. If Remy somehow managed to save this huge chunk of their grade, Cameron would be available in the library every day of the week.

* * *

"So in conclusion…"

Cameron opened the door, breathing heavily. Remy paused and looked at her from across the room in front of the presentation board, causing the rest of the class to turn around.

Remy cleared her throat. "So, um, in conclusion, Selenocysteine, which is coded for by the amino acid sequence UGA, is vital to the transcription of RNA because it tells the polymerase to stop," she paused and muttered, "just like the looks I'm getting. Any questions?"

"I have one," the professor, who was a mid-forties blonde, said, "Feeling better so soon, Ms. Cameron? I was informed by Ms. Hadley that you had a stomach bug."

Oh there were things in her stomach alright. "Um, yes," Cameron said, trying to give a semblance of calmness despite having just run half a mile in killer shoes all for nothing. "You know cafeteria food. I'm feeling better though, so I…" Why would she willingly come to this class? Ok, she was screwed.

"I appreciate your dedication to my class, Ms. Cameron, but I think I speak for everyone when I say please keep your Escherichia coli to yourself," she said haughtily, expecting the class to laugh at her incredibly cheesy joke. Foreman, the dumbass, chuckled.

There was another awkward pause. "Any other questions?" Remy asked timidly. She had carried the presentation by pretty much bullshitting it and hoping she got points for eye contact.

"No need," the professor said, "Excellent work, girls. I'm giving you both 100%. Very nice presentation, Ms. Hadley. I'm on my meds today, so no homework. Everyone remember we have a lab soon; I want ponytails and lab coats. That shower's water bill comes out of my paycheck. Class dismissed!"

Everyone stood up and gathered their books and messenger bags. Remy began disconnecting and packing up the laptop, looking very concentrated while doing so. Cameron gulped nervously. Was she mad?

"Nice of you to show up," a voice suddenly said. She jumped out of her trance and saw House and Amber looking at her expectantly. She had the pleasure of sharing one agonizing class each with them.

"Wow House, you actually came to a class you don't have?" Cameron shot back.

"Moral support," House quipped. Amber smirked and hopped up on one of the lab tables to observe.

"It's very appreciated," Remy said sarcastically. Cameron turned around and her eyes met Remy's.

There was another incredibly heavy silence until House said, "Well, must be off. Lots of cars to egg, dorms to trash. Enjoy yourselves, lesbos."

"Fuck off, House," Remy said scornfully. He put his hands up and backed out of the room with a stupid grin on his face. Remy looked at Amber and she shrugged, grinning, and stayed right where she was.

"Here's your laptop," Remy said, handing it out to Cameron. "Sorry I, um, stole it."

Cameron took it, careful not to brush Remy's fingers. "Thanks," she said meekly. "And, um, thanks for saving my ass."

"Anytime," Remy nodded, though her voice fell a bit flat. She put her hands in her pockets and gave another look at Amber.

Rolling her eyes, Amber stood up. "Fine, I'm out of here. Dinner at six, Sarah's ordering pizza," she said before disappearing into the hallway.

"Yes, mother," Remy muttered. The recurring silence reminded her that Cameron was still in the room. With her. She looked up questioningly.

She bit her lip. "About last night…" Cameron began hesitantly.

Remy cut her off, "Forget it," she said softly. Remy looked down at the floor, or pretty much anywhere Cameron wasn't.

"We have sex and you just want me to forget it?" Cameron asked incredulously, crossing her arms.

At the statement, Remy stepped forward. "Do you like me?" she asked calmly.

Cameron's mouth opened slightly. She felt her pulse quicken as Remy didn't break her firm gaze. Again, she saw that twinge of emotion in her eyes. Her eyes widened. Was that the answer?

Remy clenched her jaw. "I thought so," she whispered. Before Cameron had time to comprehend the words, Remy slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. "See you later, Allison," she said before heading for the door.

Cameron sank down onto a stool and looked longingly at the door. She knew she couldn't run after her. For the second time in two days, Cameron was left alone by Remy Hadley. This time however, Cameron knew what she was feeling: guilt.

Damn it.

* * *

I know, you thought I died, right? I wish. It's semester exam week and today i'll be buried up to my ears in homework, despite that. But this chapter came first, you're welcome. My being sick (i'm firing my immune system) and FF not delivering emails didn't help speed up the process. The good news is that I somewhat know where I'm going with this story now! Evident from the last line, this will not be a very happy story. Both Cam and 13 will be very brooding. I can't really say more than that without giving it away though. Again, the amount of reviews last chapter was insane. Even though I rarely reply (I know, I should be better about that) thank you lots, sometimes a review inspires a huge plot twist! And we all love drama, there's incentive ;) As always, huge round of applause for the woman behind the curtain, wonderousplaceforanecho. Be jealous that she reads this all before you :p


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, it's very obvious from the first line that there is drug use in this chapter. I do not use, condone, recommend, or tolerate drugs unless used for purely medical reasons. Drugs are bad and addicting, children! To get this as accurate as possible I found a website of stories written by people who have used drugs, it will make you steer away from even trying them. I've only been on morphine once, and they 'maxed me out' and I was still in pain (jerks), so I've never had any high to speak of. Heavy angst ahead.

* * *

Remy swallowed the pills House had passed her upon entering his dorm room and washed them down with a sip of beer. She had wanted ecstasy, but morphine would always do in comparison to his weed. She loved that sometimes he didn't bother annoying her with all of his questions and nasty comments. She could come to him and he'd give her drugs and alcohol – she usually took vodka while he had bourbon, and they shared the beer – and they could forget the world. He sipped his beer next to her, sprawled out on the couch, while she clung tightly to the other arm with her body slouched and her legs hanging limply from exhaustion. As the drug entered her system she relaxed her arm and lolled her head back in pleasure. She felt her heart flutter and vaguely thought of all the various other damages she knew from both her classes and the 'Just Say No' posters of high school health class currently reeking havoc on her body. She tried to take a deep breath and couldn't, another fun side effect. At this point, she didn't care.

House watched her, intrigued, as usual. What he always wondered, but didn't always voice, was why. She liked puzzling him – dropping in a piece that couldn't possibly fit with the rest of the box, or stealing a few, and sometimes confusing him so much that he had no choice but to start over. She knew he enjoyed it, and it got her a fix when she needed it so she tolerated it. She felt drowsy, like the thoughts were being etched slowly out by her fingers that felt like lead, but at the same time her whole being enjoyed the lazy floating through the haze where nothing hurt. The only thing currently connecting her to the world was the musty, old orange couch, whose cushions were sinking, and House's icy blue gaze.

In a way, she was grateful to him. He knew that sometimes she just needed it. Yes, he was the reason for a lot of things, stress and hurt she could have done without. But he understood her, because in a way he was like her. And on some level she knew he cared, otherwise he would be getting high right along with her. Sometimes he did, if another person – never Kutner – was with them. He was here to make sure she was ok, and came down from the high without falling down the stairs. No, she wanted to stay here. It was a stupid human emotion, hurt. Everyone had their own vices and their own coping. At times, on numb winter days, she wondered why they all bothered with it at all. And at the same time, when she couldn't feel her own pain, she chuckled grimly and wondered just how bad things could really get.

Letting her mind wander, she found herself in the peak of the high. This, this was the place she needed to be. Her thoughts from a minute ago…she couldn't remember at all. Her pain, her reasons, her rationalizations, they were all gone. The morphine didn't destroy her body, it cleansed it. She thought oddly of the fall migration, everything going south, and wondered if there were any lost butterflies that hadn't found their way to Mexico yet. If there was, did it have frost on its wings? How beautiful of a sight would that be – the genetics telling it to fly, to try to make it, failing and the fragile bug resting for the last time on a branch by the changing leaves, blending in seamlessly, painlessly. She wondered if that little butterfly knew that no butterfly ever made the full trip.

She felt two wide, cool fingers on her neck. He was checking her breathing and heart rate. She wanted to push his hand away, not let him tether her to this place. The red-orange of the butterfly became dulled by the frost on its wings as the tiny snowflakes melted, but the bug stayed perfectly immobile. Then the leaves around it bloomed from their tangy orange to bright and brilliant, fading the curved lines and cream-white dots until they became indistinguishable from the criss-crossing branching and spots of bright sunlight. They were dying too, turning into mocha and plum and umber brown, and eventually breaking off from their branches. When they finally all fell to the ground, covering the colorless grass in a bright, dewy carpet, the butterfly was nowhere to be found.

She opened her eyes. It took a few seconds for her to focus on his face and find his eyes, the chilly blue so unlike the warmness she had been basking in. The colors and sensations faded, despite the futile attempts on her part to hold onto them. Digging her nails into the couch didn't do much. The worldly feelings came back to her with a resolute, spectacular crashing. The scratchy couch, the sweat making hairs stick to the back of her neck, how his jeans brushed up against her leg…it all hurt. It was all too much. It couldn't be over, not so soon. The rational part of her mind, making itself known after its brief dormancy, told her she was a dumbass and that she probably passed out.

He looked at her and his lips moved, and she knew he was telling her to breathe. She let out a slow, controlled and barely audible breath. On autopilot her lungs sucked in more oxygen and her cells did their whole respiration bit, the formula from Biology running through her mind. She was back.

"Are you ok?" he asked. His voice was rough and off key on her ears, which had been unhearing for so long. Because of this, his tone or emotion was unreadable, but she imagined it was his usual arrogance and disconnection with a hint of actual concern. She was still a bit hazy. Maybe she drank more alcohol along with the morphine than she remembered. She tried to muster some form of reply, but nothing more than a raspy breath made its way through. Thankfully she didn't try to nod, because it would have made her too dizzy. She settled for closing her eyes and exhaling again. Her lungs felt…it was hard to describe. Deflated airbags seemed like a good fit. She knew it wasn't a good feeling. The pain intensified.

He seemed to take this as a yes. When she opened her eyes again, he seemed to be checking her pupils, though he looked a bit drunk by now. Seeming satisfied, he backed off and she sat up with some effort. Her mind wouldn't form any thoughts that could be put into words. An unfamiliar chill passed through her. She reached out for the vodka bottle that had been sitting abandoned on a random textbook for a number of hours.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," House warned, though his voice seemed to almost be daring her to.

After a few attempts, she gripped the bottle tightly and brought it to her lips. The burning was a numbing relief. "How much have I had?" she asked. God, her voice was scratchy. But if her conscious wasn't screaming at her by now, the drugs were still in her system.

"Enough for you to start crying about how life isn't fair," House muttered, taking a gulp of his drink, "And to go fuck Amber for tough love, or go to your library Love Bug for comfort." The beer was empty. Or was it scotch? She couldn't tell. No, he drank bourbon. Did the term wasted apply to high on morphine? Though she was sinking further with each minute, thanks to the alcohol and…wait, what did he say?

"How d'you know about that?" she slurred. The uneasy feeling in her stomach was becoming more apparent. Alcohol on an empty stomach wasn't good. She was drunk by now if she was thinking about that.

"I have my sources," House replied with a hint of smugness. She glared at him, but keeping her eyes focused in one place for so long made her dizzy.

She took another sip of the bottle, one of them, and closed her eyes. "Wasn't that good a fuck anyway," Remy mumbled, "Not even worth it…"

"Not worth what?" House asked curiously. Unfortunately it was too late. The young woman had fallen onto the soft arm of the couch, either passed out or too exhausted from the trip and booze to keep her eyes open. He sighed and stumbled over to check her breathing. Thankful the EMTs wouldn't need to come barging in and potentially steal his stash, he pulled out a cell phone, squinting at the bright contacts list.

"Yeah, Wilson's bitch," he greeted the person on the other end tiredly, "clean-up in room 265."

* * *

Amber stomped down the dorm hallway, ignoring all of the surrounding college students enjoying their night and running between rooms. Checking each number until she found the one she was looking for, she had to refrain from just kicking the door in. The long-ass walk over to this dorm, which in reality had only been five minutes, had only elevated her rage. She rapped her knuckles on the door insistently for a full ten seconds before the person she had a few choice words for opened the door tiredly.

"For the last time I'm not coming to the frat house, so –" Cameron started, her tiredness evident by her barely open eyes.

"Oh you're not going to any parties," Amber spat. Cameron lifted her head and seeing it was Amber widened her eyes.

"What do you want?" the shorter blonde questioned, a bit confused. Amber sensed the apprehension in her voice, or maybe she was just gauging how much she knew.

At any rate, Amber pushed her way past Cameron into the dorm room. With a quick survey of the place – clean, one bed, no drawer for condoms by the bed – she confirmed her earlier analysis (the one she came up with five minutes ago, that is) that the woman was as spoiled and as bad news as they come. She questioned just what the hell she had been thinking.

Amber turned around exasperatedly to face Cameron. "What happened after I left?" she asked angrily.

Cameron's expression quickly changed to a dark glare. "What does it matter?" she shot back, crossing her arms.

"It matters because my roommate got drunk and high as fuck and yesterday she was oh-so-depressed, and you're the common denominator," Amber explained, jabbing her hands into her hips.

"What she does in her free time is none of my concern," Cameron answered coolly. Of course in the back of her mind, Remy being drunk and high after their conversation was definitely her concern.

"Don't be a bitch, you're failing. That's my forte," Amber said, rolling her eyes. "Tell me what happened."

Cameron stared at her for a second before shutting the door, muffling the music coming from one of the rooms down the hall. "I tried to talk about it and she shot it down and told me to forget it. Then she asked me if I liked her, I couldn't respond, and she walked out," Cameron informed her begrudgingly, hoping it would get Amber to leave faster.

Amber sighed and ran her hand through her hair, pacing restlessly. "Just great," she muttered.

"What?" Cameron asked.

"Well now it's my entire damn fault," Amber snapped. "I was tired of her moping so I actually tried to help her be happy for once and told her to ask you out, but that obviously didn't happen and now I've gotta take care of her when she throws up all the alcohol and comes down from the morphine."

"She took morphine?" Cameron let out, angry and shocked, before she could stop herself. Damn.

Amber stopped pacing and pointed to Cameron warningly. "You have no right to judge her, especially after letting her fuck you in a library."

"Oh yeah, well I'm sure this isn't the first time she's been hopped up on drugs and doing some stranger," Cameron said, easily falling back into her previous general anger towards Remy's roommate. "It's not like she actually feels anything for me!"

"Are you really that dense?" Amber yelled. Cameron jumped and stepped back. Seeing this, Amber paused and reminded herself to breathe. She bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes before opening them again and saying, "Sort whatever's going through your head out. She doesn't need any more shit in her life."

At this, Amber made her way to the door. She had her hand on the knob before Cameron said, "Wait!"

Amber tightened her grip on the doorknob and clenched her jaw. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that there were too many witnesses to commit any felonies. She turned around. "What?" the blonde huffed.

"How do you know she likes me?" Cameron asked, surprisingly quiet.

Amber sighed. "I'm not an expert, but if you cry out someone else's name during sex, there tends to be unresolved feelings," she said sarcastically, giving her a smile that could have been considered a grimace. She waited for any further questions, but as she expected Cameron looked too stunned. In Amber's opinion, it was exactly what she deserved. Nodding, she opened the door and left Cameron to her thoughts.

* * *

Amber made it to House's dorm about five minutes after leaving Cameron's, which was a rather incredible feat considering that the distance between Cameron's and House's dorms equaled about the stretch of the campus with hers about halfway between. He hadn't provided many more details than what she had told Cameron, so over the walk the worry began accumulating in her stomach and she started to feel how cold it was and reprimanded herself for not grabbing at least a sweatshirt for Remy. It was dusk so by the time she got Remy back to their dorm it would be night and even colder. She'd just borrow one of House's jackets.

After climbing the stairs with her tired and sore legs, she sighed and listened before knocking on House's door. No retching sounds, which meant she would have the pleasure of waking Remy up and dealing with the aftermath. Amber felt a throbbing pain in her head from tiredness, although it would be nothing to what Remy would be feeling tomorrow. Remy tended to disappear, but usually it was the park, a random girl's dorm, or even the off-campus bar…if she acknowledged how many times she secretly knew Remy was going to House's to get high, she really would have no other label than bitch.

Finally knocking on the door loudly, she heard someone inside get up and walk – well stumble, from the thumping paces – to the door. House unlocked it and let her in, grinning lazily from his own buzz. He'd probably hit up on his own stash right after he called her, and was just starting to feel his high.

"Where is she?" she asked tiredly, hoping there was a bit of her earlier rage left in her voice. He nodded to the couch, which Remy was curled up on, stretching the length of it and burying her face in her limp forearms. She was shaking.

"How much did you give her?" Amber hissed to a stoned House.

He shrugged and smiled at her. "How much she thought she could take, I guess," House slurred. He staggered over to the table and gulped down more beer.

Amber stomped forward and snatched the bottle out of his hand. In surprise he dropped it before she had a good grip on it and it shattered on the carpet and House's jeans.

"Dammit!" he shouted, evidently having glass in his foot.

Amber wanted to slap him, but she was a bitch who took the higher road. "Have fun getting tetanus, bastard," she spat.

Not wasting another second on him, she walked over to the couch where Remy was lying. She bent down and pushed the hair out of Remy's face, which had discomfort written all over it. The crease in her forehead was deep and her breaths were coming in shuddering gasps. Seeing an empty vodka bottle within arms length worried Amber. House was back on his bed now, pulling the glass out and evidently pain-free. Lucky son of a bitch. It wouldn't feel so good in the morning.

Remy whimpered, which brought back Amber's attention. Amber stroked her clammy forehead. "Remy," she said as softly as she could, her voice suddenly hoarse, from the earlier yelling she supposed.

Remy opened her eyes a crack and immediately regretted it. The dizziness and nausea became overwhelming. Amber noticed this and helped her get up. She was just inside the bathroom before throwing up in the sink. The bright overhead lights multiplied by a thousand and Remy let her head fall onto the cool tile wall, slowly sinking. Her knees trembled dangerously.

She felt an arm around her midsection and across her shoulder, supporting her just enough to allow her legs to give up and to fall backwards. Not expecting this, Amber thought fast and turned sharply so they both sat on the edge of the freestanding bathtub. Breathing heavily, Remy couldn't keep her head up and Amber had the fortune of being her cushion.

"You okay?" Amber asked quietly, rubbing her back.

Remy exhaled – fuck no, of course she wasn't ok. Her throat felt like it was constricting with tears not – never – allowed to escape. "Hurts," she rasped, a bit surprised an audible word had escaped at all. God, it all hurt.

"I know," Amber replied automatically. She hated that this was almost routine. "Are you going to throw up again?"

Remy shook her head – not for a few minutes anyway. "Can you stand up?"

Remy nodded – for awhile anyway. The sooner she stood up, the sooner she could collapse again.

Amber took it and with some effort got her roommate back on her feet. Now it was just the couple hundred more feet to the dorm room, and two flights of stairs. She had Remy swing an arm around her shoulder and they walked out back into House's room. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds on repeat and the world would be safe from the continued mayhem of Greg House until tomorrow morning. She grabbed one of the warmer looking jackets, maybe this one was James's, and draped it around Remy's shoulders. She received an exhale of breath and stronger grip as thanks.

About halfway home Remy broke away and puked again in the nearest bush. Amber caught up with her and held her messy hair out of her face. After it was over and Remy's stomach had to be completely empty, the brunette wiped her mouth and sunk down to the ground. Amber came down with her, holding Remy tightly so she didn't fall and crack her head open on the asphalt path.

"I'm sorry," Remy slurred, finally letting the first tears fall. She clutched the jacket tighter around her as she felt the cold again for the first time.

"I know," again was the reply, choked and exhausted. They waited a minute on the deserted path before Amber helped her stand up and they continued back to the dorm.

Of course, being sorry didn't help a damn thing.

* * *

That might be the longest chapter yet, thanks to wonderous being a slave driver and making me write over 3000 words. I feel like taking a little poll. How many people would kill me if I turned this into Amber/13? Haha, don't worry it's very unlikely, but I've discovered how much I really love Amber here. As usual, there was something else I wanted to say but I've forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Amber woke up early in the quiet dorm, which was sleeping in from the part last night. The few hours of sleep she managed had been shallow and broken, mostly filled with worry. She hated that that was practically all she did lately. She sat up and cracked open the window at the end of her bed, hoping the cold air would wake her up.

On the other side of the tiny room, Remy was sleeping soundly, finally. After they reached the dorm room and came in the back way to avoid the party on the first floor, Remy had quickly passed out on the bed. Amber was quick to follow her lead, eager for her brain to just shut down, but repeatedly during the night she heard muffled sounds from the bathroom. Remy didn't want her to know how bad it was.

Honestly, she hated this. College, life, people, and silver dollar pancakes could all just go to hell. She was tired all the time, the professors were bitches, and there was too much drama. The people she was honest with couldn't stand her and the people she actually gave a damn about just made her life harder.

Remy was the prime example there. She hated that she cared too much about her to let her just self destruct. The last thing she cared that much about was her pet hamster Twinkie when she was five, and her brother stuck him in a catapult, killing him on impact with the electrical wires. After that Amber became steadily colder. Because her world view later in life was that there was nothing anyone could do to prevent shit from happening, and trying just makes you get hurt.

But Remy was different. She acted like she didn't care anymore, but Amber knew she did. Despite her roommate's circumstances, she studied her hot ass off. She was a nerd when it came to literature, owned more movies then Amber could count, and on good days her idea of relaxing was baking feasts on the hot plate. But on bad days, she withdrew. She went walking at night, which Amber hated, went to parties and found a girl to lay in five minutes, or worst case scenario went to House. It was when Remy let herself open up, even for a minute, that she got hurt. And this time the source of that hurt wasn't a past demon that Amber could only bitch about. It was Allison Cameron.

She didn't have anything against the girl, really. It was only when it came to Remy.

Amber shook the thoughts out of her head. It was too much heavy thinking so early in the morning. She pulled out her cell and sent a text to James. He had been busy studying for a test, but since he took it yesterday there was no reason for her not to go see him. It would be Thanksgiving break in a few days, and she wasn't letting her boyfriend go home for it without seeing him.

She scrawled out a quick note to Remy and left Tylenol and water for the bed incase of a hangover. She closed the window, pulled on some clothes, and left the dorm room silently.

* * *

Remy was awoken by an annoying, persistent buzzing sound. At first she thought it was only her hangover, but after five minutes of tossing and turning it wouldn't go away. Her mouth and throat felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in them and she swallowed uncomfortably a few times before reluctantly opening her eyes. She sluggishly raised her head and groaned as she was hit was the bright light. Through the headache she made out two pills and a glass of water on the table by the bed, which was otherwise overflowing with books. She gratefully took a sip and swallowed the pills. The initial headache and photophobia faded after a few minutes of dozing and Remy decided that it would be best to get up.

She pushed herself up and swung the blanket off her surprisingly bare legs. Had she changed clothes after getting home? That woke up her mind a bit – home from where? She had obviously been drinking…House. She went to House's after the presentation with Cameron. Cameron. She sighed and blinked her eyes tightly. Maybe hair of the dog would be good right now.

Almost immediately she brushed off the idea. She felt awful, and it had to have been more than a few drinks. She grabbed the first thing within reach (the remote) and threw it as hard as she could to hopefully get rid of the emotions. It hit the wall with a loud bang and fell onto Amber's messy bed. A hairline crack had formed on impact on the beige wall. Fuck, now she'd have to explain or buy Amber a poster or photo print to cover it up. Only she could screw herself over so early in the morning. Amber was right that she needed a stress ball.

Figuring it wouldn't do much good to be bitchy or brooding all morning, she rummaged through the small cupboard in their kitchen corner until she found some kind of cereal bar. She wasn't in the mood to bother cooking, even though it would help her relax. Maybe she would try taking a walk around campus to clear her head. She knew she was putting it off, but she had to talk to Cameron. She wasn't being fair to the blonde, and they still had class together for a few more weeks. Hopefully she could have conversation with her without ruining whatever respect Cameron had left for her, if any. And it would help with getting rid of her hangover.

She held the half-eaten cereal bar in her mouth and laced up her converse, hoping her jeans and thin sweatshirt would be enough for the November morning. She flattened her hair out with her fingers, grabbed her ipod and cell, and set off without bothering to lock the door. The note under the glass of water continued to gather condensation, not to be found until much later in the day.

* * *

Allison Cameron woke up unusually late for a Sunday: 10 am. She had had one of those nights where she fell asleep early and woke up late, but still felt incredibly tired. She supposed she had good reason. The events of the past few days had been an ordeal to say the least. Her number one goal going to this college, besides graduating, was not getting into any drama. It was safe to sad she had failed. She was somewhat involved with none other than Remy Hadley, who may or may not be a player, alcoholic, or druggie, or all of the above. She didn't want to believe that Remy could be the last two, but after her roommate, Amber, barged into her room last night, she wasn't sure what to think. Oh yeah, and Amber and Remy were having sex even though she was pretty sure Amber had a boyfriend, James, who was in her Anatomy class. And the worst bit was that Remy _clearly_ had feelings for her, and she was the reason Remy got high yesterday. It was worse than an episode of 90210.

She had no idea what to do. She had never really thought about Remy like that, but if she considered their previous interactions in class she wanted to smack herself for not realizing sooner. It wasn't like Remy had blatantly flirted with her, but in a way everything that she had taken as annoying could be seen as charming. Remy had that confident aura about her, and you could easily lose yourself in her eyes. And if she had done such a good job on their presentation, which Cameron had only had halfway done on Friday night, she was undoubtedly smart. The more she learned and thought about Remy, the more she felt guilty and conceited for assuming things about her.

After Amber came by, she realized the true ramifications of the 'Thirteen' nickname. Even though its origins were unknown, it labeled her. It was her. It made Remy the party girl, the flirt, the girl who nobody took seriously and nobody could possibly care for. It was an unlucky number for a mysterious girl, whose name wasn't important and whose beautiful face was all people cared about. Numbers didn't feel or live. It made her crave to be close to someone, to experience emotion. But there was always that wall she was scared to bring down. The origins of the name had taught her not to let herself get hurt.

Why her, Cameron found herself asking. Why had she grabbed the brunette's attention? What made her different? That's what she needed to ask Remy. There were a few things that she was sure of: she had proved the whole 'assume' phrase correct, she had shown herself in a very negative light to two people Remy seemed close to, and she really cared about Remy. She didn't know if she could classify the feelings as 'like' yet, but there were feelings.

Right now, she really needed to talk to Remy, but she had no way of – Cameron literally smacked her forehead. She and Remy had exchanged cell numbers last week when the professor told them that they would be working together, along with dorm room numbers. She could have avoided this whole mess yesterday. She quickly changed into comfortable jeans and a sweater. As she was double-checking Remy's dorm number in her contact information, her phone started to vibrate. She had one missed message from Chase and one reminder for her study group at 1 that afternoon. She didn't even bother reading the text from Chase. Tomorrow she had a class with him and she'd clarify that for the final time, she wasn't interested. And hopefully things would all somehow work out.

* * *

Cameron stood outside Remy's dorm, feeling like an idiot. She was suddenly unsure if this was a good idea. After all, considering her last interaction with the brunette, things had the potential to explode. And what if her roommate was there? All hell would break loose. Her hand trembled as she brought it up to the door, but she swallowed her nerves and knocked confidently on the door.

She waited. No answer.

Cameron knocked again, even harder. It was Sunday, so someone ought to be there. A brief visual of a passed out Remy flashed through her mind and another pang of guilt hit her. She shook it off and knocked one more time, so hard that before she realized what was happening, she was catching herself by grabbing onto a chair just inside the room. The chair rolled away from the force of her rather epic save and crashed into a small bookshelf.

"Shit," Cameron muttered, still trying to gather herself. A few of the books fell off and Cameron sighed and automatically bent down to pick them. One of them had a half-peeled off tag with 'Prop of R Hadley' scrawled on it and Cameron's eyes widened, realizing she was now inadvertently going through Remy's stuff after sort of breaking in. She looked around quickly, as if someone would catch her, and pushed shut the wide open door. Too bad she wasn't wearing a black turtleneck to complete the secret agent look.

With each book she put back, Cameron read a title and was continually surprised. _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Alice in Wonderland, I Love Everybody and Other Atrocious Lies, The Year of Magical Thinking_, and so on. Many books she had heard of but never had the time to read, and judging from the vast amount of books on the shelves on one side of the room and the well worn spines, Remy was very well read. The more titles she read, the more she felt like she was invading her personal space. When all the books were back in order, Cameron stood up, unsure what to do.

For such a small dorm room, it was nicely furnished and modern. She had a single so she was used to a lot of space, but Amber and Remy somehow crammed a chair, TV, two beds with small tables, an incredibly small space for cooking, and four bookcases packed with books, binders, and DVDs. Remy's side was cleaner and more neutral with blues and grays while Amber's was brighter but a little messy. Under one table there was place for yet another stack of books. Both tables were painted black and most of the bookshelves were wooden, but matched nicely. There was a large window by the breakfast area that showed the higher branches of one of the ancient trees older than the campus. There were posters tacked up and elegant black and white photographs on top of the shelves and against the wall. Despite all of this, there was still space to walk around. Maybe one of them should go into interior design.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, a voice shrieking, and a thump as something large hit the floor, bringing Cameron down with it. Groaning, Cameron turned over onto her side. Somehow she had landed on the other person. Her eyes widened as she got a better look and felt her heart sink with dread.

Remy pushed herself back up with her elbows and bit her lip as pain started to register throughout her body. Let's see…yeah, pretty much everything now ached. After walking a five mile radius and back then being tackled to the floor, her back wasn't appreciating her right now. What the hell did she trip over?

"I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

Remy looked up and sighed. Of course, of all people.

"Peachy," she said, having to push herself up using her knees. Cameron was looking concerned so she avoided eye contact.

"Oh god, you're bleeding," Cameron gasped. Confused, Remy felt her forehead, the worst of the pain, and did indeed find a small cut. Maybe she hit something on the way down. Looking over the blonde's shoulder, Remy saw that the upturned carpet had been the source of her demise.

"Don't worry about it," Remy said awkwardly. As much as she wanted to express distaste that Cameron had been apparently snooping around her dorm, she looked ready to cry.

"I'm really sorry," Cameron said again, unconsciously wringing her hands together.

"It was the rug's fault," Remy pointed out, trying to ease her guilt. It wasn't that big of a deal. "But why are you in my room?"

Cameron then realized that she had been the one to upturn the rug when she herself had tripped. Besides a bleeding forehead, Remy looked paler than usual and obviously tired, which was also her fault. This was all going so well. "I came to talk to you," Cameron said after a moment, trying to keep any negativity out of her voice.

Remy's demeanor quickly changed. Her guard was back up. "About?" Remy asked, her voice cool as she grabbed a tissue off the bedside table to wipe away the blood.

"Everything that's…happened, I guess," Cameron said carefully. Remy waited expectantly for her to continue and she sighed. "Amber came to my room last night."

"What?" Remy blurted out. She definitely hadn't been expecting that. A load of questions raged through her mind.

Before Cameron could further explain the circumstances, the door burst open. Unfortunately this next person didn't trip.

"Well well well," House said, limping towards them, "Just the people I was looking for."

"What do you want, House?" Remy asked, consciously making an effort not to grit her teeth. Although she was curious as to why he was limping.

"Wilson's bitch stole my jacket," he said, pointing to a jacket Remy hadn't noticed discarded on the floor. "If you puked on it you're paying for the dry cleaning."

"I didn't puke on your oh-so-sacred leather jacket, House," Remy sighed. "Why are you limping?"

"It's not a good idea to play extreme spin the bottle when you're already shit-faced," he quipped, "Lots of beer stains on the walls."

Remy rolled her eyes while Cameron wasn't sure what to do. Everyone knew House and how much of a jackass he was, but aside from yesterday she hadn't encountered him face to face. As if hearing her thoughts, he turned to her. "So Love Bug, how's the love life?"

"Don't even qualify that with a response," Remy muttered.

"How do you even know about all of that?" Cameron asked, ignoring the brunette or simply not hearing. Remy looked on, her worry growing.

"Wilson's diary," House replied, "Pages and pages of girly handwriting on everything the bitch who has him by the balls tells him. I'm amazed he doesn't realize that they have sex every other day."

"House!" Remy yelled.

"Hey, I'm not done," he continued, "The best part was how yesterday Chase told us all about how he slept with Cameron only hours before. You're obviously easy to get over."

Remy's eyes went wide. Mental images of the Australian exchange student, who was as arrogant as they came, flashed through her mind with his arms around Cameron. She turned to Cameron accusingly, but restrained herself. It wasn't like she stood a chance. "Good for you. I hope you're happy," she said genuinely.

"No," Cameron tried, "Remy, I-"

Her cell phone rang shrilly, cutting her off. Cameron was frozen in place.

"You should probably take that," House said in his usual snarky tone.

Cameron reached into her pocket, her eyes not leaving Remy, and hit talk. Chase's muffled voice quickly filled the room, but Cameron didn't hear a word he said even with the phone pressed up against her ear. Remy turned around and through the blood covered tissue in the trash can. After a few seconds she pressed end midway through Chase's sentence. She couldn't stay here. She muttered something about study group and took off as fast as she could, not knowing where she was going. She could go kill Chase, but tears began to blur her vision and she hoped that anywhere without Remy would be fine.

"Why did you do that?" Remy asked him, trying to sound angry when her own voice was thick with tears.

"Blame me all you want, I didn't sleep with him. I just saved you from making even more mistakes," House informed her coolly. "Get your damn act together, because I won't do it again."

He limped out of the room, leaving Remy staring at the door. Not two minutes later, a glowing and obviously satisfied Amber strolled into the room. Seeing her roommate, her expression quickly changed to concern.

"Remy?" she asked carefully. "What's wrong?"

Remy's eyes seemed to become a little clearer, as if before she had been looking right through the door. Slowly, she walked forward and wrapped her arms around the taller woman's neck, kissing it softly, which Amber automatically returned on her lips. Something was off. Remy walked them back towards the bed and Amber sat down on it. Then, almost a whisper, "Break up with James."

"What?" Amber asked, shocked, as Remy began to straddle her.

Remy gently caressed Amber's shoulders before pushing her back onto the bed. "I need you," she breathed, "only you."

Amber took in the full meaning of the words. Remy's eyes were shining with unshed tears, and her touch was desperate. Amber brought her down and sealed the feelings with a deep kiss. When they parted, she heard Remy breathe a sigh of relief into her shoulder.

This was her demented solace, because nothing else could be.

* * *

No, you will not kill me. Don't even think about it. Know why? Because I am a DIE-HARD Camteen shipper and if I die Amber clearly wins. And democracy supports me here, the voting for Amber/13 came in at 6 No, 5 Yes, and 6 I don't care/No answer/Either way. Do not argue with democracy ;) It still says Cameron and Thirteen up top, that won't change. You all should know by now how much I love drama. On another note, big round of applause to my slavedriver and cheerleader WonderousPlaceForAnEcho, who made me stay up til 2 am last night to finish this. And now I hear her making some smartass comment ;) Also, it was my birthday on Thursday *blows noisemaker* yay...


	6. Chapter 6

"We need a new heater."

Amber stopped playing absentmindedly with Remy's hair and quirked an eyebrow. They were lying in Remy's bed between the various grey and blue sheets and blankets, naked and embracing. Amber had her arm and leg draped over Remy, who was resting her head on Amber's shoulder and chest, occasionally nuzzling her neck. "Why do we need a new heater?" Amber questioned softly.

"It's getting colder," Remy muttered against Amber's skin, making goose bumps, "and your feet are freezing."

"Hey," Amber said, trying to be annoyed but failing miserably when she saw the adorable smirk of the girl in her arms. She settled for resting one of her apparently cold feet on Remy's calf, making her jump.

"Hey!" Remy gasped, kicking Amber's feet away. Amber chuckled and grinned widely, bringing their lips together. Amber shifted so she was straddling Remy, and began running her hands over the brunette's warm, flawless body. Remy pushed her hands away, laughing lightly. "I'm serious, either wear socks or talk to the dorm head."

"The dorm head will want to know why my cold feet bother you so much," Amber said, nipping at Remy's neck playfully. "And you're my heater anyway."

Remy pulled away so Amber had to look at her with an amused expression. "In case you haven't noticed, I need three blankets to stay warm," Remy pointed out, "Probably because you're hogging them!"

"I do not!" Amber countered in mock shock. "Maybe you could wear warmer clothes," she said, letting her hand travel down Remy's exposed thigh.

"But then I'd need to wear clothes to begin with," Remy mumbled, kissing the length of Amber's collar bone. Amber thought of a reply, but pushed it to the back of her mind as the kissing became more heated. Soon their breath came in quick breaths and pants as Remy gripped Amber's shoulder blades, pushing their bodies together. The older blonde started to tease Remy's inner thighs, making her shiver. Remy kissed her deeply and Amber moaned.

"Don't," Amber gasped, "you have class?" She groaned as Remy's leg brushed up against hers. She didn't want the brunette to leave when she was this frustrated, especially since she had her own class to leave to soon after.

"Just Biology," Remy said between the kisses, "I can skip."

"No, go to – oh god!" she cried as Remy pressed up against a particularly sensitive region.

Ten minutes later, Amber collapsed on the bed next to Remy, trying to catch her breath. Remy wrapped her arms around her and, in a surprising gesture, brushed Amber's hair out of her face and hugged her tightly. She took deep breaths, inhaling Amber's scent.

"Remy?" Amber asked softly, making invisible patterns on the brunette's back.

"Hmm," Remy replied with a sigh, eyes closed.

"You ok?" she questioned apprehensively.

Remy opened her eyes and her eyebrows shot up mildly. After a second she broke the hug and pulled back to face Amber, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave her a small grin. "Just thinking how I like this more than your pancakes," she finally said.

Amber smiled. "I fully support more mornings like this," she shot back, "Even if it means you dissing my pancakes and ditching class."

"You know me, fully supporting the American education system," Remy deadpanned, stretching her arms above her head.

Amber grinned. "Embrace your inner cat, take a nap," she said, kissing Remy's forehead before throwing the covers off herself.

"Does that mean I don't get to shower with you?" Remy questioned with a hint of a smirk.

Amber glared at her over her shoulder. "Sleep, then find something productive to do," she said in an authoritative tone.

"Yes ma'am," Remy answered, pretending to salute before wrapping her arm around the pillow she was resting her head on and snuggling deeper under the covers.

"Don't be cute," Amber said, but Remy's back was already to her. Amber was amazed at how fast she could fall asleep sometimes. A chill ran down her spine and she was reminded that the shower would be nice right now for warming up and getting rid of the smell of sex.

Meanwhile, facing the wall, Remy gripped the pillow tightly. As the euphoria wore off, the dull aching in her chest was returning. She tried to shake it off, but she knew too well what it was.

Thanksgiving break started tomorrow. James was going home for the holiday, leaving Amber and Remy at the dorm. She wasn't sure about House's plans. Amber still hadn't broken it off, but they hadn't seen each other either. She almost felt bad; James was a good guy. But Amber didn't love him…and Remy didn't love Amber.

She turned over. Nobody wins.

* * *

Cameron stood up with the rest of the class and gathered her books as Biology came to a close. She hadn't heard a word their professor said, unable to tear her eyes away from the empty seat across from her. She ignored Eric as he repeatedly asked her questions and half an hour into the class he gave up. It had been a light day because the professor was lazy and wanted to start Thanksgiving break as much as the rest of them. For the last half of the class she put in a video all about the effects of drugs such as heroin, meth, and morphine on the body. And of course that made her feel much better.

She somehow ended up back at her dorm, although she was unaware how her feet had brought her there, so she slumped her shoulders and dropped her bag full of binders. She needed to go find Chase and confront him. And by confront him, she meant likely slap some sense back into him or kick his stupid Australian ass out the window. Like she'd ever have the guts to literally do that, but her point was just as valid. Because of him, what might have been her only chance at Remy was ruined. She had been waiting out until their Biology class to see if she could straighten things out with Remy before talking to Chase, but since Remy wasn't there she didn't have much choice.

The closer she got to the dorm, the more evident the partying that had been going on. For the boys, a holiday meant partying the week before and the week after. And if there wasn't a holiday, they would party anyway. Beer bottles, toilet paper, red plastic cups, and random other trash littered the path up to the building. The halls smelled vulgar – ah, the joys of men.

Ignoring random hoots and hollers from rooms with open doors and guys without shirts, Cameron kept her eyes focused straight ahead until she reached Chase's dorm. She knocked loudly and after a minute a rugged, hung over Chase appeared, not surprisingly missing a shirt. He grinned naively when he recognized her. "Allison," he said, wiping his stubble, "Come in."

"I'd rather not," she replied, looking past him into the messy dorm room. "I'll just be here for a minute, anyway."

"Come _on_, babe," he drawled, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, exposing his bare chest right in her face, "Don't be like that."

"Ha yeah, that's the problem," Cameron countered, crossing her arms, "I'm not your babe or your sweetie or your anything, and I'm certainly not your girlfriend like you've been spreading around campus."

Chase sighed and closed his eyes, throwing his head back and nodding deeply. "That's not what you said on Saturday," he pointed out.

"Chase, I didn't even see you Saturday!" Cameron exclaimed in frustration. "You were drunk, ok? And for the record, I will never be interested in you, so stop trying. Maybe if you didn't act like such an uncaring jerk, maybe a girl would actually like you."

Rough lips suddenly crashed into hers. Not a second later a loud smack was heard and Chase cupped his left cheek. "What the hell!" he spat.

"What didn't you get in the words 'not interested'?" Cameron shouted, alerting the residents of the neighboring rooms. She could have kicked him between the legs, further demotion of his supposed manhood, but being slapped by a girl was pretty bad in man's stupid list of stupid pride. "Because of you, my relationship with the person I actually like is practically nonexistent!"

Chase scoffed, "Fine. I'll wait til you're ready to come around."

Cameron just rolled her eyes. "I feel bad for whatever hemisphere you decide to live in. Come near me again and I'll tell the Dean that you slept with his daughter."

"Everyone has slept with his daughter!" Chase yelled in disbelief.

"He doesn't know that," Cameron said, raising a challenging eyebrow. Face still red from where he'd been slapped, Chase let out a huff and retreated back into his dorm, slamming the door.

Cameron smirked. She'd eat a quick dinner then stop by Remy's to tell her everything. Because, that's right, she liked her. And despite…god, she couldn't even list all the complications again, maybe they could make it work.

Of course, the first thing was getting rid of Amber. Yeah, the friends with benefits thing would have to go.

* * *

Remy wiped down the hardwood bar for the third time in the few hours she'd been here. It looked like most bars: dark, a few tables, peanuts on the counter and lights that lit up the glasses behind her, making it seem like you weren't destroying your body with every shot you downed. The course rag felt good in her hands, picking up the moisture from the various drinks as she made her way down the bar. Working in a bar, considering her habits and past self destruction, wasn't what some would call the smartest thing, but it worked. It was oddly therapeutic and enlightening to be on the other side of the counter. Because it was off campus, she wasn't likely to run into anyone who knew her. It wasn't busy at the moment, which wasn't surprising because it was midday on a Wednesday. In general it was quiet enough to allow her to just breathe. It was hard to focus on anything other than orders and the dull hum of the ceiling fan. And hey, the manager wasn't sleazy and for a part time job it paid pretty well.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone sit down on a vacant stool. She threw the rag back in its usual corner and asked, "What can I get you?"

"A GPS would be nice, so I don't have to walk all around campus trying to find you."

Remy looked up and smiled at the blonde. "Missed you too, sweetie," she said sarcastically as she handed Amber a Diet Coke.

"I feel like I should pray for you when you say things like that," Amber said, opening her drink and taking a sip.

Remy mixed and slid another drink down the bar. "Why not do something productive?" she asked, thinking for a second, "Like eating really awesome ice cream."

"No way, just because you can eat a whole tub in one sitting and not gain a pound doesn't mean the rest of womankind is so lucky," Amber said in an almost whining tone.

Remy grinned, crossing her arms. "It's not my fault I have a high metabolism."

"Yes it is," Amber replied. Remy gave her a skeptical look and Amber smirked. A customer called Remy down and she gave her a small smile before walking off. Amber took another sip and watched her. She returned a moment later and poured a glass of water for herself. "Why are you here?" Amber finally asked.

Remy raised an eyebrow. "I kind of work here," she pointed out, leaning against the back counter and taking a drink.

"You work here when you have something on your mind," Amber countered, resting her elbows on the bar, "This is your middle stage of coping between being mysterious and hanging out with House. Drinking water means you want to drink." She knew Remy well enough. She could read the signs.

Remy didn't respond at first and bit the inside of her cheek, looking down at the dirty floor before pouring the rest of the glass down the drain in the sink full of glasses. "Or I was thirsty," she said, trying not to sound defensive.

Amber stood up and walked around to the bar entrance and wrapped her arms around Remy's waist. Remy made no effort to return the gesture. In all honesty she wasn't sure if she could.

"I broke up with James."

Remy's eyes instantly widened and she looked up at Amber cautiously. She wore an almost bittersweet smile. She pulled Remy into a tighter embrace and Remy wrapped her arms around her, staring at the light flooding in from the door. Nobody at the bar seemed to notice or care.

"He wants me to be happy," Amber elaborated, "And you're a dork, but you make me happy."

Remy opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't form the words. Amber didn't seem to expect a response and rubbed Remy's back. Remy had to be tired after standing back here for a few hours, and she had been studying until midnight last night before she let Amber distract her. "Come on, let's go home."

Remy nodded, "Yeah." Her shift was ending anyway. Mike, one of the other bartenders, would be walking in any minute. They parted and Remy tightened her ponytail. Just as she grabbed her coat Mike walked in and waved to her, a sign that he would tell the manager she was leaving. She nodded back at him and gave him a forced smile. Amber took her hand as they began the walk back to campus.

Soon they were back at the dorm and Remy was unlocking the door.

"What do you want to do for Thanksgiving?" Amber asked.

Remy paused and looked up. "I was thinking Chinese," she answered, giving her a hint of a smirk. Amber rolled her eyes. "Ok, what were you thinking?" she asked.

"I meant," Amber paused, "do you want to go out?"

"Like on a date?" Remy asked hesitantly. Amber nodded, biting her lip. "Are you sure you're ok with that so soon?"

She nodded again. "I wasn't being fair to James. I feel bad, but he's going home for Thanksgiving. So…there's no reason we can't," Amber explained, giving a small shrug at the end.

Remy took in the words and felt something tug at her chest. She couldn't do this. Amber could only satisfy her for so long.

"If you don't want to, it's-"

"No," Remy interrupted, "I mean, yes. I…I'd like to go on a date."

Amber's face lit up and she planted a light kiss on Remy's lips. Remy automatically smiled at the contact and returned it, slower and more sensual. She felt Amber's hand caress the back of her neck and hold her lower back protectively. Their lips drifted apart and Amber smirked, "We should continue this inside."

"We should," Remy agreed breathlessly, and she pushed the door open. Amber quickly followed.

Meanwhile, Cameron stood frozen on the stairs, unable to process what she'd just witnessed. The way they kissed and held each other spoke more than their words needed to. When they broke the kiss, Amber had seen her. She met her eyes and glared with intensity, her message all too clear. She had come too late.

Stomping down the stairs angrily, Cameron took deep breaths to keep the tears from coming. Now she understood all too well why Remy had asked if she liked her. Because in the end, you get hurt.

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Probably a mix. Who hates Chase? *raises hand*. Thanks to Amazon Life for forcing me to have Cameron kick someone's ass. And thank you everyone for bearing the Amber/13, haha. As usual, big thanks to my slavedriver and to everyone who takes the time to review. It really puts a smile on my face. Just a little warning, the next chapter might be a bit delayed. But there's a very good reason, which I think everyone will enjoy. Be on the lookout ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Geez, this is so overdue. I blame Valentine's Day. All of you Amber/13 haters will enjoy this - the ride is almost over!

* * *

The next morning, Amber woke up to an empty space beside her. She ran her hand over the chilly sheets she'd initially felt when trying to roll over and opened her eyes tiredly. As expected, nobody was there. But as the events of last night resurfaced in her mind, a smile crossed her lips. She and Remy were going on a date.

"Morning," a voice said sweetly.

Amber looked up past her pillow to see Remy grinning at her. The sight was beautiful – Remy was in her boy shorts and a white tank top with her hair in a wet ponytail. Her feet were propped up on their tiny breakfast table and she was reading the newspaper.

"Morning darling," Amber replied with amusement and a hint of sarcasm, "Where's your bathrobe and morning cigar?"

Remy stuck out her tongue. "What do you take me for, some mobster's girlfriend?"

Amber shrugged. "Dunno, kill anyone lately?"

"Came pretty close to killing you last night," Remy shot back with a smirk as Amber climbed out of bed to find some clothing.

"Watch it," Amber warned, pulling on an oversized grey sweatshirt from her high school. She walked over and hugged Remy from behind, resting one knee on part of the chair and reading over her shoulder. Remy kissed her cheek, as if mornings like this were routine between them.

"Vegan Thanksgiving: Tofurky Myths Debunked," Amber read out loud. "I thought we were having Chinese?"

"We are," Remy said,"but it's interesting. Unless you want to tackle a whole Thanksgiving meal on the hot plate."

Amber shook her head, chuckling, which Remy joined in. That'd be a disaster. She rested her chin on Remy's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin for a few minutes. "So what are we going to do today?" she finally asked.

Remy closed the paper and placed it on the table then turned around, sitting backwards with one leg on each side of the chair. "No clue," she shrugged honestly, "Whatever you want to do is fine."

"Would you…" Amber started tentatively. What the heck? She was never nervous. "Would you want to go on that date?"

Remy smiled and kissed her again, "Sure. Where do you want to – What's wrong?"

A strange expression passed over Amber's face and she let her head fall, muttering a faint, "shit."

"What?" Remy asked again, a hint of concern in her voice.

Amber looked up with a miserable expression. "I just realized it's that time of the month."

Remy's face fell. "As in…?"

Amber nodded, sitting down on the foot of the bed. Remy groaned and let her head fall onto the back of the chair. She ran her hands down her face. Four days off college and they were rewarded with cramps and gaining five pounds from bloating and the breakdown of willpower, resulting in massive amounts of junk food. And worst of all, no sex! Hers would probably start tonight or tomorrow. After living together since the school year started, their cycles were pretty much lined up.

"Ok," Remy finally said unenthusiastically, "What can we do that will not unleash the hell of your hormones upon mankind, destroying the world?"

"Hey," Amber grumbled before sighing, "We could go check out Blockbuster and have a movie marathon. Then later we could walk to the Chinese place off campus, I guess."

Remy let out a deep breath and stood up and stretched. "Ok, I'll get dressed. Go make your bed and dig out the box of tampons."

Amber rolled her eyes as Remy scrunched up her face, cracking her spine. "Love you too," she deadpanned. Remy muttered something unintelligible. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"For the last time we're not renting _Eulogy_!"

Remy rolled her eyes tiredly and leaned against the shelf of movies. The dull, flickering lights were annoying her and the odor of the place was like some disgusting chemical cleaner was engrained in the carpet, slowly draining her sense of smell. Amber was crouched down at the lower shelves with a movie in her hands. "Come on, Remy. It's a good movie!"

"It's a dark comedy about a dysfunctional family and everyone is _crazy,"_ Remy shot back, "The only good thing about is Zooey Deschanel."

Amber rolled her eyes, standing up. This was true. "Fine, what do you want?"

Remy spread out her own selection of movies on the white shelf top. "Really?" Amber asked, "_Standing Still, Howl's Moving Castle_, and_ The Royal Tennenbaums_?"

"Yes," Remy said, sensing Amber's dissatisfaction. "_Standing Still_ has Amy Adams, who is bi in it, _Howl's Moving Castle_ is Miyazaki and that says enough in itself, and _The Royal Tennenbaums_ was recommended to me by a friend."

"Let me guess, House?" Amber asked, propping her head up on her hands with her elbows on the shelf.

"How'd you know?" Remy smirked, gathering her DVDs.

"He's your _only_ friend," Amber deadpanned.

Remy gaped at her before coming back with, "Yeah, and you're just a social butterfly."

"Whatever," Amber grumbled, "We're getting _Eulogy, Closer, _and _Drowning Mona_."

"What is with you and movies whose morals are 'Life sucks, at least laugh at it' today?" Remy asked, beginning to get frustrated.

"Why do you always want the eccentric, excellent, and eye candy films? Why can't you take my crap for once?" Amber snapped back.

Remy scoffed. "I've taken your crap since September 1st."

"Yeah, and you're just a walk in the park. Watch, one day I'll leave you at House's dorm and you'll get buried under dirty boxers and suffocate from Axe exposure. You really want to go out like that?" Amber asked, grabbing Remy's movies and beginning to put them back on the shelves. Remy snatched them out of her hand and hugged them to her chest with a glare on her face. Normally Amber would find her being angry adorable, but right now she was tired, achy, and wanting to get back to bed with Remy on her lap. With one more stern look from Remy, she gave up. "Fine, but we're getting _Mean Girls_ instead of _Standing Still_."

Remy sighed. "Ok, swapping out Amy Adams for Tina Fey. I can live with that."

Amber swiped the movies out and they headed to the counter. While standing in line, both sets of eyes couldn't help but wander to the racks of candy and other things that would go straight to their thighs. Remy made a grab for the Reese's Pieces and Amber seized the Gummy Bears. They had four rentals, which was ridiculously expensive. There would be only one candy side.

Remy shook her head. "Don't even think about it," she said solemnly.

Amber's nostrils flared. "They're mine. Put back the peanut butter, you can get that back on campus."

"No way, I'm not spending five bucks on a pound of corn starch and crystallized sugar that you'll have finished off before the end of the first movie," Remy said.

"I will not!" Amber exclaimed. She pointed to the candy in Remy's hand. "Those on the other hand are a nightmare! Do you realize how hyper you get when you eat peanut butter?"

"Why do you think I want it?" Remy asked. "With you all hormonal, I'll be lucky if I survive the night!"

"Oh my god," Amber groaned, huffily crossing her arms, "stop being so melodramatic."

"I'm not being melodramatic, you're just being –"

"Um, ladies?"

They both snapped their necks around to look at the source of the voice. A male employee at the check out, probably in high school, was looking at them timidly. They were next in the now non-existent line, which wasn't surprising since most stores were closed. An older woman was glaring at them from a shelf just past the cooler full of small bins of ice cream.

Remy sighed and grabbed a bag of M&M's and threw them on the counter with their DVDs and a crumpled $20 bill. The guy swallowed nervously and ran each case along the scanner, checking that there was indeed a disc in each one. He then put the receipt in _Mean Girls_ and handed Remy her change. "Um, they're all due back by Monday," he said. Amber grabbed the movies and candy and walked out before he could ask if she wanted a bag. Remy sighed and followed.

* * *

It was about 5:30 and they were taking the path off campus again. The movies had been anticlimactic in comparison to before. They hurriedly walked in and Amber picked a random movie, since the cases all had the same blockbuster logo, while Remy poured the M&M's in a bowl. It ended up being _Mean Girls_ and they lounged on Amber's bed in silence as images of Lindsey Lohan, before she went crazy like so many child actors, flashed in front of them. They then flipped a coin and ended up watching _The Royal Tennenbaums_ next, then _Howl's Moving Castle_. By then they were hungry again, since a bowl of rainbow-colored chocolates won't fill you up, however appealing and delicious.

"You called in the order five minutes before we left, right? It'll take us about ten to get there, and the food needs fifteen to cook," Amber said, wrapping her jacket tighter around her body.

"Yeah, five minutes. You only reminded me five times," Remy muttered, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets as the wind whipped up again. The cold air was going straight through her thin sweatshirt and doing an exceptional job of numbing her fingers and toes. She sighed and remembered as she inhaled that it wasn't that great for her asthma either.

"Sorry," Amber said, not really sounding the part. They turned the corner and the restaurant was in sight, one of the many cheap places in the dingy strip mall. They walked past the bright red and gold Chinese characters in the windows and were greeted by a variety of warm, exotic smells when they walked through the doors. A smiling young woman was at the counter. Amber went to pick up the food and pay while Remy went to the bathroom.

"Thank you very much," the girl said cheerfully, handing Amber the bag. Amber gave her a small nod and met Remy by the door. The brunette looked a bit pale.

"You ok?" Amber asked, pushing open the door. Remy seemed to snap out of it when her face hit the cool air.

"What? Oh, yeah," Remy said indifferently. After a brief pause she continued with, "Let's just get back."

Amber shrugged it off.

* * *

The tiny dorm room was in chaos.

"I can't believe you didn't check the order!" Remy yelled.

"It was a bunch of cartons stacked on top of each other in one bag! I wasn't going to pull them all out and check each one right there at the register!"Amber shouted back.

"Why not?" Remy asked. She pointed to the open carton on the bed. It had some kind of sautéed beef cut into small squares with mushrooms and other vegetables, currently meditating in all the juices from the meat. "Tell me how I'm supposed to eat that!"

Amber threw her head back in frustration. "For christ's sake, it's just a cow and it's already dead. My orange chicken on the other hand is ruined because they made it extra hot instead of mild!"

"What, so we're eating combination fried rice and fortune cookies?" Remy asked, beginning to pace angrily.

"Unless you feel like heading back out," Amber challenged with her hands on her hips.

Remy stopped pacing and turned around, looking like she was about to retort. Instead, she dropped her shoulders and sighed, pointing vaguely to the food. "You know what? Eat whatever you want. I'm going to take a shower. Watch _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ or something."

She pulled her shirt off from over her head and lost her jeans somewhere on the way to the bathroom, stepping out of them and closing the door before Amber saw anything else. Amber sighed and collapsed onto the bed with a pitiful groan. Her back hurt, she knew her raging hormones would send that chocolate straight to her ass, and now she and her somewhat-girlfriend/roommate were fighting. Seeing it as the only logical thing, she picked up one of the plastic wrapped fortune cookies and broke it open.

"The best lovers make love on a full stomach," she read. She let out a dull whimper and buried her head in the pillow. Right now James was probably at his house cutting a turkey, and her stomach was growling nonstop. This just proved her stance on holidays she'd had since she was twelve: sleep through them.

* * *

After a few minutes of lying on her bed feeling sorry for herself, Amber got up and changed into PJs. She picked up Remy's discarded clothes, digging out her phone and the change and placing the items on the bedside table where she'd see them. By then the food was cold so she gave the beef a bit in the microwave before eating it idly, her eyes flicking between the TV and the door to the bathroom, where the shower was still running.

Around the time she finished eating, Remy came out with a towel wrapped around her and hair clinging to her neck and shoulders. With her back to Amber, she pulled on underwear and shorts with a grey cotton t-shirt. She sat on her bed with her back against the wall, legs crossed, and a well-worn novel in her hands.

"Remy," Amber sighed. No response. "Come on, talk to me."

Remy flicked a page. "You know, Kim is a Korean name," she said nonchalantly.

"Huh?" Amber asked dumbly.

"We shouldn't be getting crappy Chinese food at Kim's Oriental Cuisine," Remy answered with a hint of a smirk. She then said through an uncovered yawn, "I'm gonna sleep. Put the rice in the fridge, I'll make it at three in the morning or something."

Amber watched as she threw the book, barely making the landing on the table with a small plop, and let her upper body fall onto the mattress, closing her eyes and pulling the comforter over herself haphazardly. She let herself grin, only slightly. She was still _her_ Remy.

* * *

Hmmm, theories for what's going on with Remy? Maybe something *wink wink nudge nudge* Cameron related? I certainly don't know. Big thanks to WonderousPlaceForAnEcho (as always) for letting me steal her brain on anything movie related. And thank you to those people who push the button at the bottom of the screen, even if you're just flaming Amber/13. It should satisfy you that I took great pleasure in writing bitchy Amber. What about Cameron you ask? We'll see ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Allison Cameron tossed over in her bed for at least the fifth time. Her pajama pants were riding up her legs every time she turned over and no matter how many times she pushed them down with her feet, her ankles and calves were exposed under the heavy blanket that kept twisting around her. She was nearly in tears over it, thankful she at least had socks.

God, she felt like an idiot. She was about to cry over her PJs, but they weren't the real issue. She turned over one more time, pressing her body into the bed and staring pleadingly at her cell phone. She'd sent the text at about 5:35. It'd been an hour and a half and Remy hadn't replied.

There was a knock on the door. "Al?" a muffled voice called. A strip of light poured into the room over her and the blanket as the door creaked open. "You sure you're ok? You barely talked during dinner, mom was worried that the turkey was underdone or something."

It was her younger brother. His real name was Henry, but their baseball-addicted father called him Hank, and as a consequence so did everyone else. He had been a lady's man since preschool, but unlike most fifteen year old boys, he was kind, considerate, and overall sweet. Like a golden retriever whose only goal in the world was a belly rub.

Cameron sighed and looked up from the blurry vision of the pattern on her pillow and saw his silhouette. She couldn't help but grin. He was a typical lanky teen with broad shoulders, skinny midsection and string-bean arms that could somehow pick her up. His brown hair was scruffy and she could see he was trying to grow a mustache. Of course he was at his cutest when he wore his reading glasses, just like the ones she needed. They revealed what a cute little nerd he was. All the freshmen flocked to those chestnut colored eyes under bushy eyebrows. He walked in on long legs and sat at the end of her bed.

"Yeah Hank, I'm fine," she finally said softly. Honestly she could go for a few of the beers their dad and his friends his friends were enjoying with the football downstairs, but her drinking was like giving him permission to try pot. Another imaginary image of a high Remy went through her mind and she unconsciously shivered. Hank saw this and put a large hand to her forehead.

"You don't have a fever, but you're kinda flushed," he mentioned.

She rolled her eyes and attempted humor, "I'm the one who's going to medical school, remember?"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Holler if you need something."

"Like you'll hear over your Call of Duty 4," she quipped, easily falling back into the brother and sister banter that had plagued their younger years.

He smirked and bent down, kissing her forehead. The scratchy chin confirmed her suspicions. She gave him another half-hearted smile and he left, closing the door behind him and leaving her to her thoughts.

She was the good girl in high school. She wasn't the cheerleader, but she went to football games and was on the honor roll just like her parents expected. Not that they always demanded high grades and pushed her, they were great people. They knew she was smart and expected her not to slack off. Most of the time, it wasn't a problem.

It was…that they didn't get her. The questions they had asked when she arrived home that morning were civil and obligatory. The hugs were hugs she'd received a thousand times before. Mom wanted to know if she found any boys, Dad wanted to keep the boys away. Her parents didn't know her thoughts. They didn't know her, and they hadn't since she was nine. And after a couple years of realizing that they weren't perfect, she stopped trying to know them too.

In a way, her brother didn't know her either. She was the good big sister, who tolerated his little brother bothering as well as any child could be expected to. She watched out for him at school and didn't tell anyone when he cried after his first T-ball game because he'd struck out. She gave him a shove so he ended up right in front of the girl he'd been eyeing all night at his first school dance. As a result, he thought the world of her. He was a good boy and would stay that way, ignorant of his older sister's inner turmoil.

In a way, that didn't bother her. No matter what her parents drilled into her, she created her own morals. She didn't think she was superior to them, to think so would be egotistical and ignorant, but she could easily conclude that they didn't know what was best for her when they didn't know her at all. And because of this, she was all on her own when it came to her dilemmas and problems. And a great example, drum roll please, was Remy Hadley.

She was torn. At every opportune moment, something or someone kept them apart, so much that she hadn't really had a conversation since they'd had sex in the library. She was past denial, it didn't get you anywhere. The feelings were there, she knew it. She'd made her move; the only thing to do was –

Cameron jumped as the phone vibrated next to her ear. She scrambled for it, dropping it in the process before flipping it open. The received time showed that the text had been sent only five minutes after her own, her phone just hadn't gone off until now. Her own text had been terse, but Remy's was only two letters.

"Ok," she read softly. She let her arms holding the phone up fall, lighting up her upper chest instead of burning her retinas. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief. Things would be ok.

* * *

House flipped through the channels absentmindedly. He was lounged out on the couch with his foot propped up and a bottle of beer on the table. His foot was inflamed; evidently he hadn't gotten out all the glass.

"Really, they invented TV guide for a reason."

House craned his neck to see the door and sighed, dropping the remote, "You're pathetic."

Wilson threw his coat on the floor uncaringly. His hair was messy and he looked pale and hung over. "Shut up, House," he mumbled. He motioned for House to take his feet off the rest of the couch so he could sit down.

House rolled his eyes and swung his leg off. "I hope whatever you drank was Kosher, don't want Mommy Wilson thinking I'm not taking care of Jimmy-boy."

Wilson chose to ignore the comment and started to step forward to sit on the couch, but House cut him off by propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"Really?" he asked tiredly. House grinned, placing his arms behind his head. Wilson stepped over his legs and fell onto the couch next to him, sinking down into the cushions. House watched him for a second or two before going back to channel surfing. He settled on some obnoxiously loud heavy metal music video.

"Could you turn it down?" Wilson asked tiredly, shielding his eyes with an arm.

"That depends," House said, "Care to indulge on your firsthand experience with a succubus?"

Wilson ran a hand over his tired face. "House, just leave it."

House nodded and flipped to National Geographic. It was something about the origins of the Canadian Rockies. "What did she say?" he asked curiously as the show showed some digital diagram of tectonic plates.

"What did who say," Wilson answered in an uninterested voice, watching as the rocks clashed into each other.

"The bitch," House clarified, "You know, when she dumped you."

"We aren't talking about this," Wilson muttered. He flipped the channel to some guy getting his head chopped off. Obviously a very low budget movie with crap special effects.

"Yes, we are," House said pointedly. He stole the remote back and changed it back to the heavy metal. "Come on, we have mood music and everything."

Wilson finally turned the TV off. "She…just said it wasn't working out, ok?"

House rolled his eyes. "No, not ok. What did you say?"

"I said fine," Wilson said, his voice getting a little quivery, "Not like I could stop her."

"Of course you can!" House said, clearly irritated. "We do it all the time in movies. For all you know, she was just testing you."

"She wasn't testing me, I –" Wilson's voice caught and he ran a hand over his jaw again.

House leaned forward. "Have you been _crying_?"

Wilson looked away and wiped his eyes. "No," he said, obviously lying.

House sighed. "You're pathetic."

Wilson didn't respond, House assumed because he knew it was true. His best and only friend was a wimp. Amber had had him on a leash and led him in circles until he didn't know his prostate from his pancreas. And to make things worse, he still had no idea about Amber's other means of satisfaction. House pushed himself up off the couch and limped over to the mini-fridge.

"How's your foot?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged, leaning heavily on the chair nearby. He'd kill Thirteen later. "You want anything?" he answered, ignoring the question.

"No," Wilson sighed halfheartedly.

House grabbed another beer anyway and handed it to Wilson before sinking back onto the couch in relief. He had maxed out on Tylenol, wanting to have at least some self control, but it wasn't much use at this point.

"Here, let me take a look," Wilson said. House nodded silently and Wilson already had the wrap halfway undone. They were back into their social contract.

He wouldn't be the one to tell Wilson about Amber and Remy. He wasn't that much of an ass. He wouldn't just sit back and let him get hurt, even if he hurt the bitch in the process.

* * *

This chapter is short compared to the others, but it felt like the right place to end it. Frankly I'm amazed it was written so quickly, for as some people know (and anyone who reads my twitter) I was either insanely hyper or insanely high on Thursday. Yeah, no idea what caused it. Olivia Wilde was nowhere in sight. Big thanks to iyimgrace and the slavedriver, and greeenraiin for getting me hooked on florence + the machine, the musical driving force behind this chapter. You're crazy but awesome anyways~


	9. Chapter 9

"Remind me why we're here?"

"It's community service," Remy said as she and Amber walked through the automatic doors. "And it's mandatory unless you want to fail your class."

"Yes, professors are douche bags, but why are our classes together?" Amber whispered as they stood awkwardly in the lobby. Classes were back in session. The time of the month had passed without any more huge fights, somehow. Remy had spent most of the weekend at Kutner's dorm with him, his buddy Taub, and some random nerds. She would report in some eight hours later, boasting proudly that she had kicked their asses so much at Halo that she hadn't had to take a single shot of the beer being passed around. Amber wasn't too happy that there had been beer involved, but they were readjusting back to not walking on eggshells around each other. She wasn't going to send them back into a bitch-fight.

"It's a nursing home, these people are almost always alone during the holidays," Remy informed her, looking around at the figures scattered around the room, mostly in wheelchairs or hunched over tables. "And those two are definitely having an affair," she said, nodding to their ugly forty-something professors.

"I thought her husband divorced her?" Amber asked, referring to Remy's professor.

"Oh he did," a voice cut in. The two women turned around to see House standing there with a smirk. He continued, "But he died in a very questionable accident with a scalpel a few weeks after the papers were settled."

Amber's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

"No you idiot," he scoffed. House's gaze shifted to Remy. "Look what you've done," he snarled.

Remy gave him a once-over, eyebrows shooting up with mild interest when she got to his feet. One was heavily bandaged and she then realized that he was gripping a cane tightly. "Look at that, you're a grumpy gimp with a cane. You'll make lots of friends today," she said, grinning.

"Don't give me that," he said, frustrated, "I'm lucky they didn't chop it off. Twenty stitches. Twenty!"

"What does that have to do with me?" Remy asked innocently. Her memory was definitely fuzzy from that night, but if she remembered right it was Amber who dropped the bottle.

"Don't get cute," House warned. "Wilson dragged my ass to the ER on Thursday. We were there until ten and I missed Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost. My Thanksgiving just _wasn't_ complete without those zombie pumpkins."

"Right. Where's Wilson?" Remy asked, almost immediately regretting her words. Amber suddenly found the Lysol-incrusted tile very interesting.

"Opted to change bedpans," House quipped, although Remy noted his slight change in tone from his usual arrogance. An awkward silence settled over the group for a moment before House shouted up to the front, "How long does it take to sign us in?"

Most of the group looked back at him, as well as a few disgruntled seniors. "If you're in such a hurry," a middle-aged nurse approached, squinting at his chest to check his nametag, "Mr. House, you can help me change Henry's catheter. Or I'm sure Lizzy would love for you to play Backgammon with her." She motioned to another table where an aid was looking ready to piss his pants as an old red-headed woman yelled and yapped at him, flailing her arms and throwing the game pieces at him.

He grinned sweetly at her. "No thanks," he replied. She nodded curtly with a sweet smile and he wasted no time in flicking her off. An old man who had so much shrunken skin that his jaw looked similar to a nutcracker's gave him a displeased glare. House ignored him completely.

Meanwhile, one of the members of the group was still turned around, and looking straight at Remy. Remy felt herself hold her breath. She hadn't seen Allison since the incident in her room about Chase. She had talked to her…in a sense. Just as they reached the Chinese place last Thursday, she had felt the vibrating of her phone in her back pocket. Figuring it was House calling to bitch to her about what a pointless holiday it was, she slipped off to the bathroom. Of course when she flipped open her cell, she had to brace herself with the counter.

Chase never happened. We need to talk. Seven words, but they spoke volumes. What had happened with Chase then? Talk about what? Them? Were they a couple? Remy had no idea. She couldn't think. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders just getting a text from Cameron. But at the same time, her fingers were frozen. What was she supposed to say? Should she call?

An old Asian lady pushed open the door to the bathroom and brushed past her, walking into the stall. A whiff of her potent perfume was enough for her to pull herself together. She turned on the faucet and gathered a bit of water in her hand, splashing it in her face. She had visibly paled. Hands shaking a bit, she sent a reply. She tried to push Cameron out of her mind, but it was impossible. She left the bathroom and couldn't even look at Amber.

"Remy?" Amber asked. "You ok?"

Remy blinked and realized that the crowd had shifted and Cameron was no longer in sight. "Yeah," she said, "I'm fine."

House looked on curiously.

"Come on, imbeciles, keep moving," their professor grumbled just loud enough to be heard over the students' murmuring. "We'll be here for five more hours, go do something instead of stealing oxygen."

"Well, I'm off," House said with a strange amount of joy. He hobbled off into the crowd to places unknown in the maze of hallways.

Remy shifted her weight from one foot to the other anxiously. She didn't get a good vibe from this place. It was the scent of the plastic IVs, the detergent and the cleaners. It was the scent of death. "Let's get to work," she said to Amber quietly, turning to face her.

The blonde wasn't looking that thrilled, a frown planted firmly on her face and her arms crossed. "I'm not looking to get my candy stripes or work on my bedside manner," she said with a huff.

Remy rolled her eyes. "How about turning that frown upside down?" Remy asked with mock-enthusiasm. When it didn't work, she deadpanned, "Look, don't make me drag you. My arms will get tired."

"Hey, toots," a voice called. A fat, hunched over, balding man near them was eyeing them with a hand gripping his thigh, as if in battle mode. "I bet you can't beat me in checkers," he challenged, pointing a stubby at Amber.

Remy had to stop herself from laughing. Amber would never back away from a challenge, even if it was from some grumpy old baby-boomer. As predicted, Amber marched over and pulled up a chair covered in some ugly crocheted blanket. "Bring it," she growled.

Remy grinned. She could go off on her own, without Amber keeping an eye on her. It was kind of thrilling, but nerve-wracking as she thought about her goal while wandering down the halls. She needed to find Cameron. Remy peeked in each room, but there was no sign of her. The rooms all felt impersonal and bland, only reaffirming her earlier feelings of death and general dread and gloom. The place really needed candy stripers. Only a few rooms from giving up her search, she was met with another familiar face.

"James," she said under her breath. Her heart began to speed up.

"Remy," he replied with a half-hearted grin, "Hey."

"Hi," she said, wanting nothing more than to make a mad dash away from the doorway. After all, she was talking to the incredibly sweet guy she'd happened to steal a girlfriend from.

James finished tucking in the sleeping old woman he'd been attending to. "I don't think my first grade hockey tournament story was that entertaining," he explained. Remy smiled a bit, leaning stiffly against the doorframe. She held her upper arm with one hand, still wanting nothing more than to get out. "How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," she lied, keeping her tone neutral.

"You sure?" he further questioned, walking towards her. She nodded and, realizing he was leaving the room so they wouldn't interrupt the woman's slumber, followed him.

They were a bit further down the rather endless hallway before he spoke again. "How is…?" he began, trailing off.

Remy knew immediately what he was trying to ask. "Amber is…" she started, but realized she didn't really know. Or at least she couldn't tell James. "She's fine," she finally said with a hint of a sigh.

James nodded, sticking his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. "I know I shouldn't ask this, but you're her roommate, and so you'd probably know if she had but," he stopped, realizing he was rambling. "Has she mentioned me? Or why we broke up?" James asked, almost a desperate plea in his voice.

Remy's breath hitched. It was kind of hard to avoid, since she _was_ the reason they broke up. But to say otherwise would be an outright lie. But to tell him would be – "Yes," she said. Her heart stopped for a second. Oh fuck.

"She has?" James asked, sounding surprised. "What did she say?"

Remy clenched her jaw, unsure what she could say. To try to lie now would end up a big mess. She couldn't go back. James stared at her curiously and she stopped walking, suddenly unable to take it. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What?" James asked, thoroughly confused.

Remy shook her head, holding her arms to her chest. "I can't lie to you, right to your face," she continued, emotions overwhelming her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

James held her upper arms in comfort. 'Remy, what's wrong? Whatever happened, it's fine. What happened?"

She continued to shake her head unconsciously, biting her lower lip to keep it from quivering. "We…Amber and I," she stopped and took a deep, ragged breath. "She was cheating on you with me," Remy said softly.

James's eyes widened and his mouth formed a small 'oh'. He took a minute to process before asking, "Cheating as in…dating? Or...sex?"

"Sex," Remy admitted shamefully. She couldn't look at him. "And I…asked her to leave you."

James dropped his hands, realizing they were still on her shoulders, and looked away. He ran a hand over his weary, but emotionally unreadable face. Remy felt like she was going to cry. She'd come clean, somewhat. Now everything was ruined. And it was just then that she realized how selfish she really was. "It started before she started dating you," she said tearfully. "But when you got together, we just didn't see a reason to…stop." She didn't want to say anymore, feeling like with each syllable she was making it worse.

James closed his eyes and sighed before meeting her eyes. "Ok."

"What?" Remy asked.

"Ok," he repeated. "It's ok. I've learned not to hold grudges, I'm not mad. And I obviously wasn't who she wanted, so-"

"No," Remy cut him off. "That's, that's not true, James. This whole, thing," she said, making some motion with her hands in efforts to signify the broad web of relationships, "it's all my fault. I asked her to leave you."

"And she did," he said.

"And she hated it! Believe me, I could tell. I'm so selfish that I didn't realize how hard of a position I put her in. She was…worried, about what I'd do if she left me," she explained, choking out the last part. She had been in her darkest hour when asking Amber to leave James. What could she have been capable of, if perhaps her one true friend pushed her away?

James nodded in acknowledgement. He was aware of Remy's 'friendship' with House. But for her to admit something like that was…big.

"Please hear me out," she tried, taking deeper breaths to try and regain some composure. "She really likes you, and underneath the cold exterior she really cares about people she puts up with. We're the same, we used each other because…"

"You're afraid to be vulnerable to the people you love," he finished softly.

Remy nodded, looking away. She felt his arms around her, holding her in a warm embrace. She told herself not to cry and swallowed back tears. He rubbed her back. His hands were large and awkward, but she was grateful all the same.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Remy opened her eyes. "What? For what?"

James shrugged, bringing a small space back between them. "It feels like the right thing to say. And good luck with Allison."

Remy wiped her eyes, removing all traces of any tears that escaped. "How do you know about…?" but she stopped herself and nodded knowingly. "House," she stated.

He nodded with a small smile.

Two wheelchairs suddenly sped down the hallway, nearly running them over. They watched as the backs of House and the old woman a nurse had called Lizzy, identifiable by her bright red wig, raced wheelchairs down the hall with their IV poles rattling.

"Come on, sonny!" Lizzy called. "Catch me if you can!"

"Try to quote something from _this_ century, lady!" House shouted back, arms working vigorously to catch up with her. Remy tilted her head and burst out laughing, realizing that Lizzy was powering an automated wheelchair. James chuckled along with her as the pair rounded the corner.

"Thank you," Remy said sincerely.

"For what?" James asked.

Remy grinned. "It feels like the right thing to say."

James nodded and returned the grin. "You're welcome. I'm going to try to go catch House before he runs someone over. Maybe a fishnet stretched across the lobby will do the trick," he said, sighing.

Remy laughed. "He'd rip it apart with a plastic fork." There was a silence before she said, "She'll come back."

James gave her a hopeful smile. "We'll see. Go find Cameron," he told her knowingly.

Remy nodded. They parted, walking in different directions down the endless hallway. Remy felt…lighter. Maybe the scent had just been the midmorning applesauce.

* * *

The hours flew by for some and dragged on for others, namely Allison Cameron. She loved volunteering and meeting and taking care of people, but right now she found it hard to concentrate on anything other than Remy.

"One more round, dearie?" an old man with frizzled Einstein hair and dentures that make snapping or sucking sounds asked.

Cameron gave him a smile and was about to accept when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see none other than Amber Volakis, public enemy number one.

"Hey Ally, I was wondering if you had the page numbers for the reading for English?" she asked in a sweet tone.

The old guy smiled up at her. "Would you like to join us? I'll have you know, I was Mahjong champion of Bismarck, North Dakota in 1957."

"No, but thank you," Amber said, eyeing Cameron.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, since the last thing she wanted to do was play more Mahjong, Cameron stood up. "I'll be back soon," she told the man, who nodded. He'd probably be asleep in five minutes anyway and an orderly would take him back to his room and wipe the drool off his chin.

"Can I help you?" Cameron asked sarcastically once they were in a secluded room. She'd had a gut feeling something like this might happen.

"Stay away from her," Amber said simply. At this point she didn't really care about hurting Cameron's feelings. Not that they had ever been a priority.

Cameron felt her nails dig into her palm. "And what if I don't? It's obvious she still likes me."

"It's obvious she's still sleeping with me," Amber fired back. "Go back to Chase."

Cameron opened her mouth, but a look of realization crossed her features. "You've been manipulating this whole thing," she growled accusingly.

A smirk slowly formed on Amber's face. "Well, it doesn't really matter if I did."

"So you're okay with taking out her options and controlling her life? How big of you," Cameron said, surprising herself. Right now she was beyond pissed, but still keeping levelheaded.

Amber crossed her arms. "I don't have to explain myself, especially to you. Remy knows who she wants."

Cameron clenched her jaw. "Just wait," she finally said. She walked off, quickly blending back into the flow of traffic in the hallway.

Amber released the tension in her shoulders. Things were reaching their breaking point. How many more faces would she have to put on for the day?

Unknown to her, a curious ear was just outside the door, trying to stop their wheelchair from squeaking.

* * *

Omg, What's this? Did she really update this quickly? YES, I did! Sudden inspiration has hit me. I thought I knew where this was going but it went a whole new direction, which I really like. So you are rewarded! I know the last chapter was kind of a downer, no Remy in sight. But this makes up for it I think :) Big thanks to the slavedriver for last minute editing. Also, 2 things: 1. How many people looooove crackfics? 2. Check my profile, big announcemeny :D


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you all for your patience, I promise this is worth the wait!

* * *

Amber sat on the stairs landing just outside the side door of the nursing home. The decaying concrete, faded and washed away just like the people inside, trailed off after five steps down the curvy hill. The trail of stepped on dead grass led to a small patch of soil. She assumed it was a garden, but it was odd to have one considering that most people inside would break a hip bending over to tend to it.

She took another drag of the cigarette and sighed out the smoke. Remy hated when she smoked. It aggravated the brunette's asthma and she refused to kiss her after she went out for a smoke, but Amber still bought a pack on occasion. It was her irrational indulgence. Even as a future doctor, the idea of lung cancer didn't really faze her.

She heard the door open with a creak.

"What are you doing?"

Amber closed her eyes and took another inhale. House leaned heavily on the wall, his wheelchair abandoned just inside the door.

"Not pot, if that's what you're asking," she muttered.

House groaned. "If you were, I'd steal it. Codeine is wearing off," he said. He hopped over to where she was sitting and lowered his bad foot first, holding her shoulder as a crutch. The injured foot brushed the pavement and he winced.

"Go steal some painkillers," Amber said simply. "I'm sure you're heartless enough to choke one of these old bats."

He shut his eyes tightly with his lips forming a thin line. She couldn't tell if he was actually mulling it over. After a few seconds he sighed, eyes still closed, "Not worth it."

"Not worth what?" Amber asked.

"Shush, my therapist tells me I need to find my happy place," he quipped. She shook her head and House opened his eyes. "Ok, this is pointless. Besides, there are too many witnesses."

She shrugged and handed him a cigarette. He took a puff and breathed out the smoke slowly. A look of hard concentration was on his face.

"Why did you two start sleeping together?" he asked. It wasn't a mocking or smartass tone, almost like he was talking to himself.

"Remy or James?" Amber asked, not sure which she'd rather hear as the answer.

"Thirteen," he clarified insistently, looking down at the sidewalk.

"Why does it matter to you?" Amber asked spitefully.

House was silent for a moment. She could tell he was thinking hard. Was he here about why she left Wilson?

"It matters," House finally said.

Amber pulled out another cigarette, since he didn't seem fond of giving hers back. "I got her drunk because I figured she'd open up a bit. One thing led to another, I guess," she explained vaguely.

He watched her try to light it with the lighter in mild frustration and held out the tip of his. Hers quickly lit and she brought it to her lips. "What did she tell you?" he asked.

"The usual reasons a person is withdrawn and self destructive, hard childhood. Her mom died when she was a kid, dad was depressed, something," Amber shrugged with a sigh. "I was drunk too, there was probably more to it."

House played with the cigarette, rolling it between his fingers and watching the lit part dance. Ashes occasionally sprinkled out. "Did she ever tell you why I called her Thirteen?"

Amber thought for a moment. "No," she said softly. She'd never asked. Or maybe she'd never gotten an answer.

House dropped his cigarette and stomped it out with the side of his foot. "It's because," he looked up, "She tried to kill herself."

The cigarette dropped from her fingers.

"What?" she choked out.

"It wasn't under your watch," House assured her with a hint of his usual sarcasm, despite the topic.

Amber looked at him incredulously, frozen. She opened her mouth, closed it, clenched her jaw and looked away.

"You're going to burn this place down," House observed, motioning to the cigarette smoking in the dirt.

Amber made no motion to stop it. "What happened?" she slowly asked, barely above a whisper.

"Thirteen sleeping pills," House answered, scratching his head, "Massive overdose."

He paused, allowing her to digest the information. He observed her curiously. "Hey," he said as a shimmer of smoke creeped up around the blonde's face, blurring it into the grey background behind her. "Hey!"

Her head snapped up in his direction. The cigarette had set a clump of dead, dried up grass smoking. Amber stomped it out and held her foot there. The muscles in her calf and thigh began to tense.

"You're a manipulative bitch," House suddenly said.

"What?" Amber asked, caught off guard. Her mind was still on Remy.

"You aren't thinking about the fact that she almost committed suicide, you're thinking about how you didn't know. She's self destructive, and that screws with your world view because you don't know why. The only reason you allow it is because you feel something for her, and that scares you because feelings are irrational. You need to control everything. You only want her as long as it's a challenge to keep her."

Amber's nostrils flared. "If that was true, I could say the same to you. She's a puzzle to you, that's all. The only person you actually let yourself care about is James, who's a fucking Care Bear to anyone he meets, because you know you won't get hurt."

"That's the same reason you went out with him," House shot back. "You can be a bitch all you want, because I don't give a damn. But because of that, he got hurt. The game is only as fun as long as someone else has a piece for you to take. You have to have it all, even if Thirteen actually found someone who cares about her. Admit it. The sex is as hollow for you as it is for her. You try to feel something, but you can't."

Amber tried staring him down, but tore her eyes away under his firm gaze. "Why…" she trailed off. She started again, her tone different, as if she was changing her original question. "Why are you still letting her get high?"

House clasped his hands together and brought them to his chin. "Would you rather have her get high without someone watching her?"

Amber was silent.

"Let the Love Bug have a chance with her. Because you never will," he finally said. He used his hands to push himself off the sidewalk enough to sweep his good leg under him enough to support his weight as he stood up. "And get some decent smokes. Those were like escargot in a tube."

Amber was left to her thoughts. She made effort to stop a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

* * *

Remy stood against the stark white wall, trying to be invisible. She had been watching Cameron for at least five minutes now, but her feet had developed this odd adaption called choosing not to move. Remy tried not to look at the blonde, but her eyes kept drifting over. It was a cycle: catch a glimpse, try to look away, get a stupid fluttering feeling, be angry for getting that fluttery feeling, turn up the volume or skip to the next song on her ipod to distract herself, and repeat.

Remy couldn't decide where she should talk to Amber or Cameron first. She was still a bit emotional from her conversation and confession to James, so Amber ought to take priority. But she and Cameron really needed to sort things out. God, her life was a mess. But when she thought about it, she hadn't seen Amber since they arrived. House had been missing too except for the wheelchair incident. She said a little prayer that they weren't plotting a thousand ways to make the residents of the home miserable. She could see them now: swapping Polident denture cleaner for sprite, turning down hearing aids, only one tennis ball on the walkers, no doubt hiding the reserves of adult diapers. But it was pointless to try to stop them, and she kind of enjoyed the havoc of being around them.

Remy caught herself staring again and quickly changed the song.

_Well her pretty little face_

_Stopped me in my tracks…_

Remy rolled her eyes. "Come on," she muttered at the throaty voice drawling on, shaking the ipod lightly. Though, she thought with a smirk, the song described Amber more than Cameron.

A fat old lady with her boobs down past her knees swallowed back some drool trying to escape out of the corner of her shriveled up mouth. "You know, in my day we didn't have those fancy new fangled music players. Radio, it was, gather round the radio! My ma was a flapper, pa didn't approve. She marched in the suffrage and he wore the suspenders and brought home the bacon! Now that's how life was in the good days!"

The woman continued to ramble and demand Remy's attention. The brunette discreetly checked the woman's bracelet listing the medications she was on for any morphine or psych meds. The woman scrunched up her nose and nearly sneezed on her. Not wanting old people germs, Remy sat down on the other side of the table and pretended to listen while looking just past the mole on the old woman's right ear, at Cameron. She was playing chess with the old man who earlier challenged Amber to checkers. Maybe he had a huge pile of games (none under fifty years old) under the table.

She sighed and wondered how she could have fallen for the blonde so hard. Her mind flashed back to the first experiment they did as lab partners. It had been pretty simple, just testing acidity in different mixtures. Well, the technical term was solutions because of some crap with the solubility of the solvent, but she wasn't going to get all technical for risk of sounding like she actually enjoyed the class.

"_Ok, the fun part," the professor said. "Lab partners."_

_The entire class groaned. Everyone was sitting next to friends or former classmates in hopes of being able to work together. Remy was sitting in the back, alone. She didn't really want to be here. For most of her classes she had saved her notes from high school and the basic material was essentially the same, so she could just watch educational documentaries and knock out homework for her cinema class and any other she pleased. In a way she was glad to have the table empty, more leg space. _

"_Ok, we're going to do this without any temper tantrums. There are a bunch of random numbers and, just to get your brains warmed up, your partner's number will be either the reciprocal or the square root of your number…" God, this woman never shut up. Remy tuned her out and dragged her feet with the rest of the class to get a number. __She was dreading meeting her roommate. She was such a loner that anyone who remotely got on her nerves_ _would end up in a pool of their own blood stuffed under the mattress. Or, more likely, be so unable to find their schedule or assignments that they were driven insane until they begged the dorm head to let them move rather than bear the evil that was Remy Hadley. She smirked to herself and chuckled internally. _

"_Hey," a voice interrupted her diabolical plan._

_Remy looked up at the person who addressed her. The woman, around the same age as herself with blonde hair and an irritated look, stuck out her hand. "Allison Cameron. We're lab partners." _

_Remy raised an eyebrow in question. She then realized, looking around the room, that she and the blonde were the only ones not working. She wrapped her thin fingers around the blonde's, Allison's, she mentally corrected, and shook them briefly, "Remy Hadley." Allison sat down next to her and whipped out notes filled with her perfect bubbly handwriting of everything the teacher had said that day. _

"_Ok, we need to measure the pH level of…sucrose and water, sucrose and lactase, lactase and water..." Remy tuned the blonde out. This one was definitely annoying. _

"_You or I?"_

"_Hm?" Remy asked. Allison gave her a questioning look. "Oh, I'll go get those if you go get the beakers." _

_Allison nodded and stood up. Before she left, she pulled a black hair band from her wrist, "Put your hair up in a ponytail," she said in an authoritative voice. _

_Remy frowned. "Why?"_

"_Lab protocol," she stated. "Don't want milk in it, right?" She flung the band onto the table and left to gather the materials. Remy gaped at her retreating form, but her lips began to curl into a smirk. Annoying definitely, but this girl might be interesting. _

"_Ok, put the blue strip in test tube A," Allison said. Remy dipped it in and waited for it to change color. She then pulled it out and reached for the tube of pH strips where the chart, a little decoder ring for acidity, was and her hand brushed warm fingers. She quickly pulled back. _

"_Ah, sorry," Allison quickly said. A small blush formed on her cheeks. This confused Remy for a second. Cameron looked away and dipped a pink strip into another test tube. _

"_Oh," Remy whispered under her breath. She was embarrassed? Interesting. "No problem," Remy said knowingly. _

_Allison dropped the pink strip in the next test tube. The experiment continued without anymore accidental brushes or awkward looks. _

"_Ok brats that will soon be brainwashed into the monotone shit of adult life," the professor yelled over the murmuring, "You all will owe lab reports on this experiment. Requirements will be passed out by the TA, it's due next class and grades are final. And I expect everyone to read chapters five through eight." The class groaned in unison. The professor slammed her hands down on the desk and grinned evilly. "Welcome to college! Class Dismissed!"_

_Remy rolled her eyes at the professor's attempt to be funny. Allison, who had taken the seat next to her, stood up and gathered her books and binders. _

"_What a pain," Allison muttered._

"_Mhm," Remy agreed, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. Now for the fun. "If it helps the time pass, next class I'll wear a lower cut top."_

"_What?" Allison asked, a hint of a blush filling her cheeks. Remy pretended to look around and leaned in with a slight grin. "You were kind of obvious." _

_Before Allison could deny it, Remy walked past her. "See you later, Cameron," she said under her breath. _

_Remy wore a smug grin down all the way back to the dorm. After retracing her steps from last night when she dropped off her stuff, she found the door unlocked. That's right, her roommate was coming. She needed a new brain; Biology always numbed it. But she smirked to herself when thinking about the look on Allison Cameron's face. _

_She opened the door and quickly realized that there was someone in the room. A blonde woman, hair cut a bit shorter than Cameron's, was sitting on the bed that had been empty yesterday. She had nothing more on than a tank top and shorts that hugged her long, toned legs. Whoa. _

"_Hey," she said coolly. "I'm Amber."_

"What are you thinking about?" Amber asked. Remy felt a cool hand on her shoulder and looked up at its owner. She inhaled Amber's scent unconsciously and frowned. She'd been smoking, but Remy reminded herself that she had no room to be a hypocrite.

"Nothing," Remy answered neutrally. She looked at the lady across the table. The old woman had fallen asleep and a small pool of drool was gathering on her gown, dribbling down her chin. She'd put herself to sleep. "Are we leaving?" Remy asked.

Amber nodded. "We can stop at Blockbuster if you want. I'll let you pick the movies, I promise," she said sweetly.

Remy looked between Amber and the crowd of departing college students. Her eyes connected with the ones she'd seen in the first day of Biology. They stared back at her for a second before tearing away, forced to break contact by the tide of moving people.

"We need to talk."

* * *

Ok...I have plenty to say but first and foremost, just this morning I got my vid from Olivia!!!! Squeeeeee!!!! She said she loves me TWICE, so ha! I win!! XD

Now that that is out of the way, what a chapter! There was a lot to think about here, hence the delay, and it would be nowhere as awesome without Kris6's ramblings/ideas, heh. *gives her a round of applesauce* wait, I meant applause. But you can have that too. And big thanks to iyimgrace and the slavedriver for reading it over. I see a light at the end of this story soon, but rest assured that I have plenty of cracky goodness stocked up in my brain.


	11. Chapter 11

And now the moment you've all been waiting for...

* * *

Amber's eyes widened for a split second, just long enough for Remy to notice. Remy looked away, towards the door. There were only some stragglers left aside from the old folks. The air was suddenly much more suppressing.

"Now, or back at the dorm?" Amber asked. Remy could hear in her tone that under the surface, she was trying to kill her suspicions.

"The dorm," Remy muttered. She felt bad about not saying it right then, for making them deal with the awkward, long walk home. Home – it was their dorm, where they lived their lives each day and would for at least another semester. She needed to confront Amber, all of that. Everything needed to be brought to the surface.

Amber did the only thing she could do, which was to nod silently. She was still trying to absorb what House told her. She took a deep breath and started to walk out of the nursing home, out of the scent of death, with Remy at her side. Out into the bitter air with the wind whipping with regret.

She pretended not to notice James and House driving by.

* * *

They sat on opposite beds. Shoes were kicked off in their respected areas, along with socks and sweatshirts. Remy sat with her legs crossed and dug her fingers into the blue sheets and curled them, holding tight to keep from clenching her jaw. Amber swung her legs, trying to be absentminded, but ended up dragging her feet across the carpet. She glanced up at Remy, waiting.

Remy felt her eyes and looked up, biting her lip. She'd never actually broken up with anyone. No, they weren't 'breaking up', were they? They hadn't really 'gone out', so…

"You don't have to say it."

Remy's eyebrows shot up. Her first instinct was to joke. "Say that you'll be paying for a new carpet?"

Amber wasn't that amused, but let herself smirk-halfheartedly. She pulled her feet up and tucked them under herself. "You're breaking up with me," she stated calmly.

Remy clenched her jaw, staring at the place where Amber's feet had worn down. She finally looked up at the blonde, a small crease between her eyebrows. "You're not fighting," she half said, half questioned in disbelief.

Amber tilted her head to the side in acknowledgement. Then, out of nowhere, she smiled. "You know I hate losing," she said softly. She bit the inside of her lip and met Remy's eyes.

"Then why are you…?" Remy asked, trailing off. Above anything else, she was confused.

"I…" Remy waited patiently. "I talked with House."

"About?" Remy questioned. House and Amber were like cats and dogs, so the fact that Amber didn't have a mark on her either meant that Amber was lying in one last great manipulative stand, or the subject matter had been serious and was leading to Amber being so placid about all of this. Or he let her smoke sage.

Amber didn't answer right away. She rubbed her forehead with her thumb and forefinger, as if it would help clear her thoughts. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Remy stood up and plopped down on the bed next to Amber and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Tell you what?" she asked, perfectly hiding the dread in her voice. "Do I need to get the decoder ring from the Mini-Wheats box?"

"Thirteen," Amber whispered. To say the actual incident would make it too real.

It didn't matter, Remy got the message. She felt her whole body begin to shake and pulled back her hand from Amber's shoulder.

Remy," Amber said, pushing forward as the brunette scooted back. She eventually hit the wall on a diagonal angle, bumping her head but not caring. "Remy!" Remy tried to get off the bed but Amber grabbed her wrists and pulled her down on her back against the bed, between Amber's thighs.

Remy let out a choked sob as she struggled to break free. It's just what she did – run away. From her past, her friends, her problems, from her life.

"Remy," Amber said for a third time. It was sincere, but forceful.

Remy looked up, begging her eyes to keep holding back the tears. "What do you want me to say? What happened, why I did it?" she asked brokenly. Amber cupped her cheek and Remy shook her head to force it away. "I don't have an answer."

Amber hung her head, letting her blonde hair fall and intermingle with Remy's. The brunette loved when she did that. "I don't want an answer," she said quietly. "I just want you."

Her firm grip softened, turning into a gentle caress. "And not as a girlfriend, or friends with benefits, or anything. I just want you, here. Alive, and as ok as you can be. And if Cameron makes you stupidly happy, who am I to argue?" she explained, realizing as she spoke each word that it was true.

Remy swallowed back the thick tears once again threatening to fall over. Amber had released her hands somewhere during her talking. Not really knowing or caring what she was doing, Remy wrapped her arms around Amber, under her arms and circling her back, clutching her shoulder blades. They found themselves side to side on the bed.

And Remy finally cried. She never cried unless she was drunk or high, and now she remembered why. It hurt. Guttural sobs choked the air her body kept trying to breathe in. Her lungs screamed and her throat burned. It hurt so much, as the tears finally came. The only thing she comprehended was Amber's hands still around her.

Amber let her cry, and before she realized it, tears were running from her eyes of their own violation. She let them silently run down her cheeks as Remy pretty much ruined her sweatshirt. She'd always been taught crying was a weakness. Fine, she was weak. She needed to weak. Clutching the bed sheet in one hand and rubbing circles on Remy's back, she offered any support she could.

After a few minutes, Amber finally interrupted the muffled silence. "Sleep with me?" she asked quietly.

Remy looked up, her eyes still teary. It scared Amber that she had never seen Remy this vulnerable, and that was saying a lot. "Not like that," she clarified, realizing the double meaning of her words. "I just want to…hold you."

Remy closed her eyes, a tear falling down of its own will, before moving further into Amber's arms. Amber surprisingly didn't place an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "I'm fine," Remy whispered. Her voice was still a bit cracked from crying. "I'm not going to break."

"Could've fooled me," Amber said, the natural smart ass poking at the surface.

Remy let her lips curve feebly into a smile. "You need to talk to James," she said softly, deflecting.

Amber felt her heartstrings unmistakably pull at the words. "I know," she replied in defeat. Carefully, so not to disturb Remy too much, she pulled the messy blanket and sheet down by their knees over them.

Remy melted into the warmth and Amber tentatively placed one hand around her before kissing her forehead. Remy closed her eyes and Amber felt a sudden chill touching her feet. "Little bitch," Amber growled.

Remy smiled against her shoulder, "But you love it."

"I do," Amber breathed after a moment. They slowly drifted off to sleep, both anticipating and dreading what the morning would bring.

* * *

"So," House said curtly, drumming out a beat on his legs in accordance with the radio as they drove. "What d'ya feel like doing tonight, Jimmy boy?"

James took a steady inhale of breath, trying not to tighten his grip on the steering wheel to give the appearance of calm."Nothing, House," he said, "I have to study."

"No you don't," House replied in a bit of a sing-song voice. "C'mon, live a little. All the cool kids are doing it."

"Oh no, everything I've ever been told is a lie," James answered without missing a beat.

House smirked. This is why he chose this guy as his friend. "Wanna hit a club?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Not my scene," James grumbled.

"Bar on campus? Slutty party girls galore and you don't have to pay," House suggested, trying to coax him.

"Sure, and have you spike my drink," James answered with a hint of agitation.

"Hey bro," House said, "That was one time. I had to see what you were made of!"

James pushed the vague memory, involving ping pong balls, green paint and knitting needles out of his mind. "One day I will kill you," he muttered.

"Yeah, when we're old as shit like those hazbins and I steal your legwarmers?" House asked.

"Yes, I'll snap and beat you to death with the tennis balls on my walker," James deadpanned.

"I look forward to that," House smirked. There was a moment of silence. "So, frat party?"

"For the last time, no!" James growled.

"Fine, what do you want to do?" House asked with a loud sigh.

"House, I'm taking you home and then I'm going to eat ice cream and cry while listening to Boyz II Men," James told him, clearly (hopefully) joking.

"Right," House said, rolling his eyes, "then you'll call me at two in the morning crying about how your mom loves your brother more than you, how you have it _so hard,_ and are tired of being everyone's doormat."

"That's the plan," he said confidently.

House leaned forward and turned off the radio. "Make a right up here," he said.

"Hm?" James asked as they stopped at a red light.

"You're in a turn lane," House pointed out. "Turn."

James looked past House and the bushes on the curb. "No, House, not happening."

"Come on!" House whined. "You're worse than a postpartum single mom with triplets. Stop crying, clean up your shit and get on with life."

"House," James warned threateningly. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

"Do it," House said solemnly. "It's been too long."

The tension in the car was comparable to the minute before two ninjas in the Karate movies yell and do a kickass uppercut or two brawly wrestlers waiting on opposite ends of the ring. A bead of sweat ran down James's forehead.

"Fine," James conceded.

House punched the air in victory. "Yes!"

They were going bowling.

* * *

House slammed down a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses on the table. The bowling alley was unexpectedly busy so they were waiting for a lane to open up.

"House, we don't even have our shoes yet. No drinking til you get a strike," James said, reminding him of the sacred bowling rules.

"I'm thirsty," House grinned, taking a sip from the bottle. "Wheelchair racing is exhausting."

"How are you going to bowl with your foot like that?" James asked curiously, not touching his poured glass.

"Easy," House said, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans.

James smacked his hand away from the tattered denim. "You brought drugs into the bowling alley?" he asked in a hushed tone, looking around nervously.

House shrugged, fanning away the smoke from passers by. "If you haven't noticed, plenty of people are already taking dangerous and addicting substances in here."

"We can get kicked out!" James said, "Or arrested!"

"Stop worrying," House told him. He shoved the weed back in his pocket.

'If we're both drinking, who's driving?" James asked.

"Shhh," House said with mock seriousness. James gave him a stern look and House rolled his eyes. "The purpose of this is to get you shitfaced and forget about the bitch. Kind of hard when you're being the worried mommy."

"Why would you tell me if that's the plan?" James questioned.

"Because I'd get a deflective answer just like that while now it's been brought to the surface that you've been thinking about her all night," House said, holding his glass.

"I have not," James tried.

"Right, and your shirt isn't iron-pressed," House quipped.

James sighed. "You're going to find out anyway, so…Remy told me that Amber cheated on me. With her," he admitted after a pause.

House's brow scrunched up a bit, his usual look when he analyzed something. He took one more sip of the bottle. "Interesting," he mused.

James rolled his eyes. "Why? Why is something always interesting?"

"Because, it's interesting," House supplied arrogantly. "She basically broke the biggest affair rule there is, the third wheel told the ex out of guilt. And you don't sound mad, despite that apparently you couldn't 'fill 'er up'.

"It has nothing to do with that."

"Had to have been something you don't have, otherwise the bitch wouldn't have been sexting you while getting her real game on with Thirteen every night," House said.

"We never-" James stopped. "Wait. You knew."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I didn't say when it happened. It could have been only once," James said, pointing out the evidence.

"Have you _seen_ that woman?" House asked incredulously. "No way it was just once."

"You know everything," James said softly, but still able to be heard over the crashing pins.

House shook his glass upside-down, trying to salvage and drops on the side.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"You didn't ask," House said, resting his chin on his fist.

James shook his head. "You never pass up an opportunity to mess with my head. Even if it wasn't true, my reaction would have been amusing for at least a week. Which means you either actually cared about my feelings…or you've gotten your revenge."

House stayed silent. The lights danced around his face as the smoke weaved around the lights.

"She said Amber would come back," James muttered, waiting for House's reaction.

House looked away, scowling, before taking the shot poured in front of James. "You and your hope."

"I have to believe," he said.

"Wonderful," House mumbled bitterly, "Everyone's happy."

He stood up and James turned around as he began to limp away. "Where are you going?" James asked.

House held up his blue and red shoes, tied together at the laces. "They're putting pressure on the stitches." James nodded and House continued, "I'm suddenly in the mood for The L Word. Or The OC, I'll let you choose."

James grinned slightly and nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

*hands out noise makers and pom poms* ok, celebrate, the bitch is finally out of the way for Remy and Cam. Or is she? ;) This story will be wrapping up soon, I plan only 2, possibly 3 more chapters. I mean it's 30,000 words, time to wrap up. I'm sure I had more to say but as usual I forget...Oh, in DC we can FINALLY get married today! Now I just need a gf. And Alice in Wonderland is epic, see it if you haven't already!


	12. Chapter 12

When Amber woke up the next morning and realized that Remy was still nestled in her arms, she sighed to herself. Whether it was a sigh of relief of just a sigh as her heart began to ache again, she didn't know. She began to replay the events of last night, a stark contrast of the placid look on Remy's face.

"Mm," Remy grunted in her sleep, scrunching up her brow slightly. "Al," she whispered into the pillow.

Amber's heart sunk. She had done the right thing. And she felt lousy.

Remy blinked heavily a few times, fluttering her lashes as they tried to blink out the sleep. Squinting at the light, she realized that Amber was also awake and smiled a bit. "Morning," she mumbled. Her voice was still sleepy and cute. "Did I wake you?" she asked, wiping her mouth.

Amber shook her head. "No, I just woke up."

"What time is it?" Remy asked.

"Around eight," Amber said, her mind already drifting. This would probably be the last time they slept in the same bed.

Remy closed her eyes and sighed. "I have Biology today."

Amber nodded. "Are you going to talk to her?" she asked softly.

Remy looked down at the wrinkled bed sheets where her hand was resting. "I should, but…I've probably already destroyed my chance permanently. I messed with her head and –"

"Oh shove it," Amber cut her off, sitting up. "You're talking to her."

Remy raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Look," Amber started again. "This whole…" she made a motion gathering the air around her, "mess, for lack of a better word, is a result of a lot of stupid decisions. Yours have been…pretty stupid. Actually incredibly stupid, sometimes I feel like slapping you, but that's not the point. I should have just let you talk to Cameron after this whole thing started. I wanted her gone because I wanted you for myself. House is right," she frowned, slightly annoyed that she had to admit it. "I'm a manipulative bitch. I knew you two would fight and you'd run back to me. But clearly that's not how things are working out for anyone. So yes, you hurt her, but it's because of me. And James is also my fault," she admitted honestly, trying to convey her message without sounding too vulnerable, god forbid. Besides, they needed to finish their talk from last night, tie up all the loose ends so to speak, without becoming blubbering emotional messes again.

Remy pushed herself off the mattress to meet Amber at eye level, having listened to her explanation lying down with her arms above her head. "It's not your fault. I mean, House certainly didn't help things. I don't deny that you're a bitch, but you've got a heart three sizes too small inside," Remy tried to joke. Amber gave her a feeble grin. Remy placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "There's more, isn't there?"

Amber closed her eyes and Remy dropped her hand, resting both on her knees, legs crossed. "I found the text." She heard a small intake of breath. "She still wants to talk, so you need to talk," Amber finished, opening her eyes.

"When did you find it?" Remy asked quietly.

"Thursday," Amber said with no real emotion. It was clear from this action that Remy had wanted Cameron all along. When had she become so emotionally invested in someone that she would deny like hell that they could like someone else? Oh yeah, it was just her screwed up persona. "I'll repeat, talk to her."

Remy wrung her fingers together. "If I talk to her, will you talk to James?"

"Yes," she said, repeating her intentions from last night without all the tears, with very limited enthusiasm.

Remy pulled her legs up to her stomach and rested her arms on her jean-clad knees with her chin on top. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

Amber shrugged. "Not much of anything," she lied.

Remy looked at her with mixed emotions. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"For what?" Amber questioned in confusion.

"All of this," she said, and after a moment, "us."

Amber sighed and pursed her lips in thought. "I won't pretend it didn't hurt me too. But you're still my best friend."

"Only friend," Remy corrected automatically.

Amber smiled. An actual, genuine smile. Remy noticed this and leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek. Amber noticed that the passion and feelings of their kisses had changed. What started out so raw and hungry had mellowed down to intimate friendship. And oddly, Amber was ok with it.

Seeing Amber in thought, Remy enjoyed the quiet for a moment before saying, "I better get ready."

"Mhm," Amber agreed as Remy slid off the bed.

"What are you going to waste the day doing?" Remy asked, picking up random clothes off the floor and putting them in the hamper, frowning. She went to the closet and muttered a small 'ha' in satisfaction when she found her blue striped tie with awesome rainbow polka dots on the back.

Amber wasn't sure if she was referring to the impending talk with James or the rest of her day, having finished all of her assignments by some miracle. "I might go down to campus," Amber said. "Get some air, relax."

"My library is open if you want to bring a book," Remy told her. Amber grinned, thinking about the vast collection of novels.

"I might," she said. It would be nice to sit out in the few hours of sunlight before the chilly November air forced everyone inside. They would be getting snow soon. She stood up and joined Remy in changing into new clothes, choosing her comfiest jeans and a yellow top. She would shower when she got back.

Remy nodded and folded the clothes she had been wearing into a haphazard pile before slipping her arms into a neutral, fitted blouse. "How do I look?" she asked Amber after tying the tie, genuinely curious. It was make it or break it day, after all.

"Super-gay," Amber said flatly, continuing to tie her shoes without so much as a glance.

Remy let out a huff and shook her head, but was amused all the same. "I'm so loved." She slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the nearest shoes in sight. "See you later," she called.

"Bye," Amber said after her. She watched as the door swung closed behind her roommate. She stood there a moment before resuming her routine, pulling a sweatshirt over her head and grabbing Alice in Wonderland off the shelf. Shoving her cell into her jeans, she left the room.

* * *

Allison almost hadn't left her room that morning. She'd caught a glimpse of Remy as she left the nursing home yesterday. Actually, she'd caught a lot more than fleeting glances over the day. There had been times when Remy would look at her for agonizing minutes and she had wanted nothing more than to just ditch the bag of bones she had been attending to and walk over and wait for Remy's lips to crash against hers. But it didn't happen. Amber, that bitch, put her hand on Remy's shoulder and then Allison was swept away by the crowd.

She didn't know what she was doing as she walked to class. She and Remy had had one incredible night and many what would now be called sexual-tension filled conversations, as well as countless attempts to reconcile or at least set the record straight. But apparently neither of them had the courage to take the first step.

Now she was sitting in Biology, in her regular seat, waiting for Remy. They had a lab today, the last of which Remy had missed. Cameron guessed that they would talk before the class started, after suffering through the lab all class, or they would both somehow end up start talking at once, drop something and be pushed into the emergency chemical shower. She blushed at the last option.

She kept wondering though if she had any right to talk to Remy. Maybe she really wanted Amber. After all, the 'ok' in the text message didn't imply tone or feelings. But she had seen Remy looking at her.

"Good morning brats," the professor said from the front table. Cameron turned around and saw Remy just walking in the door. The woman dropped her messenger bag at the table nearest the door, far away from Cameron, and brushed her hair back while listening to the professor.

"For your lab today, I'm assigning partners. After what happened last time," she shot a look at Foreman, who had large blisters all over his nose from sniffing instead of wafting chemicals, "it seems that the idea of college being an independent study is only further hindered by immaturity and budget cuts. In any case, find the unfortunate soul that is your partner after I call your names. Blake Bell with Megan Hall, Jenny Kasik with Alex Hamilton…" she continued until "Allison Cameron with Eric Foreman, Remy Hadley with Jeffrey Cole," was heard.

Allison tried to steal another look at Remy, but Eric and Remy's partner blocked her view.

She sighed; after the lab it was.

* * *

Amber was trying really hard not to be angry. She went to the café before roaming outside, and they were out of anything remotely nutritious or delicious. She wasn't in the mood to cook but really, she wasn't asking for a three-course gourmet country breakfast.

She stomped through the grounds and looked around at the other couples walking together or holding hands. It only pissed her off even more. She was still trying to get over two break ups in one week. Well, she was supposed to be getting back together with the first one, but she honestly didn't think it would happen. Like James would take her back after all this anyway. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk to hi-

"Whoa!" a voice said as she felt powerful hands hold her study. Her hair fell downwards as her breath and stomach tried to catch up and her mind processed what had just happened. After a second she wanted to slap herself. She had been so deep in thought that she had walked right off the path, apparently tripping over a tree root.

"You ok?"

Amber looked up, a strange tingling filling her as the voice met her ears. She looked up with dread.

Well fuck. Guess who.

* * *

Foreman chuckled to himself as he continually stabbed the rat they were dissecting with the surgical pins holding open its skin. Cameron was disgusted and kept smacking his hand away. He snorted and began poking at the blue material in the tray. Cameron was mentally debating whether to elbow his arm so he sliced his hand open with a scalpel or to just drop her head to the table and hope that the clock sped up.

The professor walked up to their table. "So, what do we have here?" she asked, motioning to the tray.

"A lab rat," Cameron said under her breath before she could stop herself.

"What was that?" the woman said threateningly, eyeing Cameron under her huge hook nose.

"Nothing," Cameron quickly said, smiling innocently while clenching her fist under the table.

"That's what I thought," the professor said with an equally fake grin. Ah, the social contract. "Now, what have you found?"

"This rat has a swollen stomach and intestine, along with slightly jaundiced eyes," Cameron answered, pointing to the mentioned organs with the tweezers.

"Any theories on why?" she asked in her usual sneering voice with a raised eyebrow.

Foreman continued to look dumb while Cameron shrugged.

The professor clapped her hands together. "Well, let's find out! After all, science is all about answering a question. You, please use the scalpel to cut open the stomach," she said to Foreman. Cameron internally smirked that she didn't even know his name.

Foreman made a jagged line into the organ, causing all the stomach juices to spill out. The acid inside was bubbling slightly, but it was for the most part clear.

"Huh," Cameron muttered. She then smelled something odd and wafted the scent of the rat over. "It smells like…vodka." Taking the scalpel and tweezers, she opened the intestine and furrowed her brow in confusion. "It's…a piece of orange cork and part of a label. G…Grey…Grey Goose vodka. Our rat has alcohol poisoning."

"Well that's just not possible, since the rats were under my desk all night and I was…well that would be completely…alluding to the notion that I…continue!" she said before walking off as fast as her stubby, tweed-clad legs could carry her.

"Well that was fun," Cameron muttered.

"Ok class, clean up and get out of my domain of beakers and bunson burners and wander the Earth until such a time when you scuff up my floors again!" the professor called. The class stuffed the materials back in boxes, threw out the rats, and didn't waste another second before making a mad dash to the door. After all, she originally had told them they'd be doing a lab report.

"Not so fast!" she said. Everyone stopped dead and was afraid to turn around.

"Hadley and Cameron wipe down the tables," she said with a smirk. The rest of the class continued to file out while Remy's gloved hand was still holding a rat by the tail that she'd been disposing of in one of the biological waste bins.

It landed with a thud on top of the bunch of other rats with their insides spilling out. Such was life, because Remy's heart was ready to jump out of her chest. She looked up nervously after pulling off her gloves and tossing them in. Allison was sitting on one of the tables, looking at her with nervous eyes.

She took a step forward. Here went nothing.

* * *

YES, I'm so evil! Feel free to remind me of this fact. The last chapter or the chapter after that will be the last, but I haven't decided yet. And now an announcement (which I forget if I already made or not) I have another story in mind. It will be pretty challenging to write and heavily angsty. I may make a few people cry, but it'll be awesome.

Oh, Vaniagon17, can you turn on your PM feature? It won't let me reply to your message. Thanks :)


	13. Chapter 13

Last chapter :(

* * *

They were across the room, and then suddenly they were face to face. Allison couldn't keep her eyes off Remy's lips and her heart beat in rhythm with Remy's breath. Remy saw this and the blush sweep across Cameron's cheeks, her heart racing.

Fuck talking.

Their lips crashed together and Remy pushed Cameron back onto the table with such a force that a stray beaker on the other end fell on its side, cracking the glass. Their breath was frenzied as the tension was finally released. Cameron clutched Remy's tie, pulling her closer, and Remy's hands melted into the curve of Cameron's lower back, crawling underneath her shirt. In Remy's mind, a kiss had never felt so wonderful.

After a minute, oxygen was desperately needed and they were breathing heavily, so they pulled apart. Remy felt Cameron's grip loosen and she did the same, although savoring every second that she had her hand on the blonde's skin.

"Well that definitely wasn't how I planned starting this," Remy gasped.

Cameron was about to agree, but some force pulled her in and their lips met once again, the thought completely forgotten. Cameron moaned and felt Remy's tongue enter her mouth, playfully teasing her own. She felt her body lean back of its own accord and that's when she knew they needed to stop. A repeat of the library wasn't on the agenda.

"Ok, actual talking time," Cameron said somewhat seriously, still trying to catch her breath.

"Yeah," Remy agreed hastily. She didn't want to mess this up. Conscious of that, she slipped her hand out of Cameron's shirt and began to back away to a safer distance, but Cameron grabbed her wrist. It wasn't forceful, but just a little tug, but pleasantly surprised her.

"It's been a week and a half, you're staying close," Cameron explained with a slight smirk, but Remy detected a hint of loneliness too. All the less, she smirked at how endearing the older girl was. She pulled up and sat on a stool from under the table. Cameron did the same so they sat parallel to the table with their fingertips still touching.

Remy decided she should start from the almost unsure look on Cameron's face. "I'm so sorry for all of this," she said. It seemed like a good way to start.

Cameron opened her mouth to object, but decided she should let her continue. Remy noted and appreciated her consideration. After all of this, they needed to tread lightly. Remy continued, "After…well, the library, I messed with your head, with all the flirting in class beforehand, and just walking out, and never really giving you a chance to explain or hear you out. Nothing really mattered to me, especially not what you were feeling. And this…thing or what have you isn't the first relationship I messed up…" she said, looking away. Cameron nodded though Remy didn't see. She knew about Amber. Remy exhaled and looked up almost pleadingly. "This really isn't how I wanted to start a relationship with you. Or even a friendship, if you aren't –"

"No," Cameron said, cutting her off. Remy looked up with wide eyes. "No," she repeated, "I want to. I want…ok, yes, at first I didn't know what I wanted. I felt hurt but I also felt guilty because I didn't know what went wrong and with all the times of us trying to talk ruined, I felt…" she paused, searching for the right word, "disheartened. And I was even more hurt when I found out about Amber. I felt in over my head, and scared. But now all I'm really sure of is that I want you. I want to try this. And if we get hurt along the way, well…" she shrugged, not really knowing what she had planned on saying.

Remy felt her mouth turn upward and found herself beaming. Cameron continued after seeing this with, "I know we just needed to talk and work all this out. And I know it's not all just going to go away, all this drama I mean, but I –"

"No, it will," Remy said. At the confused look, Remy clarified, "Yesterday, after I saw you…Amber and I aren't together anymore."

"You two…?" Cameron asked, unsure of what to say.

"After you and Chase –"

"Chase never happened," Cameron said.

"I know," Remy answered quickly, squeezing her hand. "Basically, I asked Amber to break up with her boyfriend. And she did, and we tried being exclusive I guess." She saw Cameron's face fall for a moment and elaborated. "It was a disaster and we kind of realized that we just weren't who we both needed. And for me…" Remy shook her head and grinned. "Can I just kiss you?"

Cameron squeezed her hand back. "Yes."

Remy grinned, absolutely elated, and planted a soft kiss on Cameron's lips. This brief contact and pleasure with her felt like so much more than what she could ever ask for or deserve. But for now she wasn't going to question it. She wanted to just live for a moment.

The kiss for Cameron, if possible, was even more of an emotional relief. All this time she'd been waiting and wondering what would happen and didn't take enough risks to make anything like this happen in her life. The brush of Remy's lips was amazing against hers, a feeling she would cherish.

They drew back and Cameron grinned stupidly; first the library, and now the Biology classroom. Soon they'd be almost having sex against the bathroom wall.

"So…what happens now?" Remy asked.

Cameron shrugged. "I guess we –"

"There you are!"

Both girls turned to see a limping House in the doorway. He shook his head. "Damn, I missed the makeup sex. Please, have an encore."

Remy rolled her eyes. "Why are you here, House?"

He smirked. "There's something out on campus I think you should be seeing."

"What is it?" Cameron asked.

House beamed and clapped his hands together. He limped forward and took Cameron's hands, shaking them vigorously. In his best Italian accent, he said, "Welcome mi Bella, welcome to the family."

Remy subtly slid over and stepped on his foot. He yelped like a dog and shouted, "The hell! After all I've done for you, really. This is how I'm repaid."

"Yes, you're clearly in love with me," Remy deadpanned.

House rolled his eyes. "Yes, we're all at your beck and call. Now if you will, your highness," he said arrogantly, making a rolling motion with his hands towards the door.

"What's so exciting?" Cameron asked again.

House shook his head. "God, you're annoying. I already hate you."

Cameron smirked and said without missing a beat, "Right back at you."

* * *

Remy was shocked. House was smirking, like he was a kid on Christmas who got _exactly_ what he wanted by fooling his dad into mixing up the presents with his older brother's. Cameron was unsure whether to shield her eyes or just start to laugh.

"How long have they been going at this?" Remy whispered to House.

"About ten minutes, give or take," he said with his eyes still on the spectacle.

"And how did it start?" Cameron asked.

"She tripped over a tree root and he spilled his coffee on her sweatshirt. Then something like 'typical, James,' and more of her bitching about him being a wimp, then he just…exploded. It was pretty cool." House explained.

"And how did the…" Remy motioned to the two figures engaged in…well, activities.

"I missed that part. But I hope they don't stop!"

Both Remy and Cameron stomped on the closest foot. House tried to bite back a yell and grimaced at them, to which they smirked. "Watch the main act," he snarled, leaning against a tree and cradling the foot in poorer condition.

There were frat boys everywhere, laughing and cheering. Someone had a stereo blasting a song with a low base stripper beet and guitar solo with lyrics about a moneymaker.

And Amber and James were half naked.

"For the last time, it had nothing to do with you being a man!" Amber shouted. Ok, they had clearly been drinking (if the bottles and broken glass around them wasn't enough). Her sweatshirt was off so she was wearing only a thin, very see through top and jeans.

James ran a hand through his hair and grunted in frustration. His bare chest was making every straight girl swoon. "Look, I don't know what I'm doing, or saying! All I know is she has something I don't, and god dammit, you never talked to me!"

"It was none of your business!" The crowd seemed to follow the conversation with their heads and eyes, like a live studio audience.

"You were cheating on me!" James screamed.

"So?"

"With a woman!"

"Oh that is so sexist!" Amber scoffed, pacing up and down the path.

"It's true!" James insisted.

"What, you're going to fight her for me?" Amber asked incredulously.

James' chest heaved. "If that's what it takes!"

"So you have to enforce your masculinity?" Amber asked. "You're so full of shit, one minute you're all it's fine, I want you to be happy and now you're all I have to prove I'm a man?"

James shook his head and took another drink from the spectators. "This has nothing to do with that," he slurred.

"The hell it doesn't," Amber said. "You have to be so caring that it makes you a pussy, and then when something sets you off you go ape shit on their ass. Usually it's reserved for House, but come on!"

"House isn't even involved in this!"

"Right, you just had this idea all by yourself!" Amber challenged.

"Are you saying I rely on House?" James asked.

"That's where your balls are kept!" Amber yelled.

James marched forward. "You know what? I just realized I can't stand you!"

"Care bear!" she sneered.

"Bitch!" he barked.

"You'll never go anywhere in life!"

"Fine, as long as it's away from you!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"God I want you so much," Amber gasped, pulling James forward and kissing him. He immediately delved his tongue into her mouth and she moaned. The crowd's jaws dropped all at once. The pair continued to kiss and grope, Amber swinging a leg around James's waist.

"Ok, whoa whoa whoa," Cameron said, surprising everyone. She entered the circle and broke the two up. They were already committing public indecency, so it was just a matter of time before the campus police showed up.

The two gasped, trying to catch their breath. "I think…someone drugged me," James said hoarsely.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Amber said. She hadn't seemed to realize that at least fifty kids could see her bra yet, or maybe she was showing off.

"House?"

"Probably."

James started to chuckle. Amber tentatively smiled, then, realizing the audacity of the situation and all the things they had just been arguing about, joined in. "Does that count as a couple's fight?" she asked.

"Are we a couple?" James questioned with just a bit of hope.

"Remy and I broke up," she said. He seemed to be waiting for more and she supplied, "mutually."

James kissed her again, rubbing circles with his thumbs on her neck. She smirked into the kiss and wrapped her hands around his neck.

"Pay no attention to the gimp that's saving your love stoned little asses," House muttered as he pried them apart.

The couple glared at him, and then all of a sudden Amber kissed him on the cheek. House and James both raised a questioning eyebrow. "You need to give him crack or whatever you slipped in his coffee more often," she supplied.

House turned to James. "Kiss me and I'll destroy your Jewish nose," he threatened.

"No worries, House," James answered.

"Great. Now put on some damn clothes," House said, nodding his head towards the abandoned shirt and sweatshirt on the ground. James blushed and shivered at the chilly air. He bent down and gallantly put the less muddy article of clothing around Amber's clothing, tying the sweatshirt around his waist. Amber smirked at the gesture. Remy smiled and discreetly took Cameron's hand. She looked and Remy saw a bit of a playful hint in her eyes.

"Hey!"

They turned to see House looking at them with Amber and James pausing in midair. The crowd seemed to have disappeared for the most part, but a few stray people were still gawking at the campus's newest couples. Nobody really seemed to mind. "We're going to celebrate," House said, "Drinks at Reilly's."

Remy frowned. "I work at Reilly's."

House smirked. "Exactly," he said smugly, "Free drinks!"

"No chance, House," she shot back with a smirk. "Besides," she said, pointing to Amber and James, "These two are tripped out enough."

House waved it off as James nearly tripped on the perfectly flat path. Amber helped him steady and accidently (or not) bit his ear, wrapping her arms around his waist.

House rested his bad foot on the top of the other and grabbed onto a stray bench. "Oh fine," he said dramatically with a large sigh. "Have fun with your petty little emotions, I'm very busy anyway. You know, puppies to kill, cameras to install in the sorority."

"Have fun, House," Remy said, grinning. She was well aware that without him, she and Cameron or Amber and James may not have been back together. She'd send him a thank you card or something, with a 50% off coupon for the bar in it.

"Well," James said with all the sobriety he could muster, "We'll see you later. You're Cameron, right?" he asked the blonde.

Cameron nodded. "Do you regularly walk around campus shirtless?" she questioned sarcastically.

James blushed. "Ah, no, I don't usually, what I mean is –"

"Please ignore the muttering mess that is my boyfriend," Amber said, getting right back on her horse despite the lazy grin on her face from the apparent shots they'd been doing.

"She makes me crazy?" James tried sheepishly.

All three women chuckled and his modesty earned him a peck on the cheek from Amber. "Come on, let's get back to the dorm," she muttered in his ear.

James blushed again and Remy and Cameron gave him knowing looks. "Well, uh, we'll see you later then?" James asked.

Cameron nodded, "Nice to meet you."

They waved and headed back to one of the dorms, leaving Remy and Allison alone again.

House had apparently limped off sometime during the conversation. She tilted her head in Remy's direction. "So…what happens now?"

Remy grinned. "I think we're a bit past the first date part."

Cameron pressed her lips into Remy's cheek in agreement to the joke. Remy naturally wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist, keeping her close before elaborating. "I've never really done this before," she admitted with a small sigh.

"A relationship?" Cameron asked. Remy nodded. "Well, neither have I. With a girl at least."

A cheeky smile curved up on her lips. "That definitely wasn't your first time," Remy said smugly.

Cameron raised a challenging eyebrow and Remy smirked. She recognized that this was just the way they fell into challenging playfulness they had in Biology. It made her smirk turn into a sincere gaze. "Despite all of it," Remy finally said, "Right now…everything doesn't hurt as much."

Cameron cupped her cheek and kissed her lips softly. "Then I guess I'm a really good distraction."

Remy took a moment to realize that she was partially mirroring the few words she'd said in the library. She was right; Remy came there looking for a distraction. But she'd found so much more.

* * *

That's it! The James/Amber craziness came out of nowhere, heh. Everyone's back together, everyone's happy (except House, poor House). I could have kept going with this one, clearly there's not enough Camteen, but 1. waaaay too long 2. I don't feel like it 3. I have a new story idea :) Which you will see very soon. greeenraiin gets the dedication this time around, for somehow suggesting Camteen sex in a library. Major thank yous go to WonderousPlaceForAnEcho, the slavedriver who puts up with my smartass-ness, iyimgrace whom I could not brainstorm without, and Amazon Life for, ah, you didn't help much on this one but you get acknowledged for being awesome :)

So, spring upon us, love and happiness are in the air...not in my world :) Next story will be really angsty and something I've never really done before. But I hope you all enjoy it and have enjoyed this story as much as I have. Cheers~


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